


Relentless

by DesaChaseJackson



Category: Fantasy - Fandom, Fiction - Fandom, Paranormal - Fandom
Genre: Demons, F/M, Faries, Trolls, Vampires, Werewolf, fae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22407637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesaChaseJackson/pseuds/DesaChaseJackson
Summary: The original book by Karen LynchSara Grey’s world shattered ten years ago when her father was brutally murdered. Now at seventeen, she is still haunted by memories of that day and driven by the need to understand why it happened. She lives a life full of secrets, and her family and friends have no idea of the supernatural world she is immersed in or of Sara’s own potent gift. In her quest for answers about her father’s death, Sara takes risks that expose her and her friends to danger and puts herself into the sights of a sadistic vampire. On the same fateful night, she meets Nikolas, a warrior who turns Sara’s world upside down and is determined to protect her even if it’s the last thing she wants. Sara’s life starts to spin out of control as she is hunted by an obsessed vampire, learns that her friends have secrets of their breaking down the walls around her.
Relationships: Sara /Nikolas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Preface

He put his mouth to my ear, and his words sent waves of fresh terror through me. “I am going to savor you, little Sara. I had planned to have you now, but why rush when we can take all the time we want later.”  
“No…”  
“But, I think a taste first to whet the appetite.” His face lowered as he forced my head to one side, baring my throat. His lips touched my skin, and his tongue lapped at the spot where my pulse beat. Blackness swam before my eyes.  
“What is this?” he murmured and sniffed as if he was trying a new wine. His tongue touched my skin again. “You taste like –” His head whipped up, and his eyes glittered like he had just been served a favorite dessert. “You’re a –”


	2. Chapter 1

“YOU’RE LATE.”

Malloy huffed as he slid into the booth across from me. “Don’t get your panties in a knot. I got other business to tend to besides yours you know.”

I scowled and tapped my watch and he threw up his hands. “I’m sorry, alright? Jesus, you’re an impatient one.”

“You’re not the only one with places to be.”

He made a harrumph sound as if he could not imagine what someone my age had to do that was so important– if he only knew. I schooled my expression to hide the anxiety gnawing at me.

“Alright then, where is it?” he asked.

I patted my chest where the small lump lay inside my coat and lowered my voice so no one outside our booth could hear it above Lynyrd Skynyrd blaring from the jukebox. “Half an ounce, as promised.”

Malloy’s brown eyes widened and he leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table. Shorter than me by a few inches with a small pinched face and dull brown hair, he reminded me of a little brown field mouse. Not that I was fool enough to be taken in by his harmless appearance. You don't survive this business by being nice.

"Well, let's have it then." His eyes swept the dimly lit bar before settling back on me. I could have told him not to worry; the patrons at Jed’s were good at minding their own business, which is why I’d suggested the biker bar in the first place. That and the fact that Jed kept a wooden bat and a .44 behind the bar in case of trouble. No one was stupid enough to start something at Jed’s.

I reached inside my coat and pulled out a rolled-up paper bag. Malloy grabbed for it but I pulled it out of his reach and put on my business face. “Payment first.”

“Ah yes.” He made a sour face as he put a hand inside his own jacket. His hand stilled. “This wasn’t easy to come by, you know. Maybe –”

“We had a deal, Malloy.” Damn it, I should have known he would try to pull this again, and on the one day, I didn’t have time for games. My cell phone was lying face down on the table. I picked it up.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” I did not look at him as I scrolled through my short contact list. “Half an ounce is worth ten of what you’re paying for it and you know it. But if you don’t want to do business I’ll have to go through someone else.” I bit my lip. I really didn’t want to go elsewhere and I was running out of time. If I had to wait for even one more day to get what I came for, it wouldn’t matter anymore. A day? Hell, hours were more like it.

“Excuse me. I need to make a call.” I moved toward the edge of my seat, hoping he did not see through my bluff.

“Wait.” He sighed and pulled out a small square package wrapped in dirty gray cloth. Laying the package on the table, he covered it with his hand and slid it toward me. I did the same with the paper bag and we made the exchange at the halfway point. I stifled a sigh of relief when my fingers closed around the package.

I lifted the cloth-wrapped package to my ear and shook it before I sniffed it to confirm its contents. Satisfied, I tucked it into an inside pocket and picked up my soda, taking a long sip to hide my eagerness to get out of there. It was never wise to appear desperate or hurried to people like Malloy; you might as well paint a big red target on your back.

Malloy tipped the paper bag and spilled a small glass vial out onto his palm. His eyes glittered as he rolled the vial of yellowish-brown liquid between his fingers.

“Kid, I’d give my left gonad to know how you managed to get your hands on this stuff… and lived to tell about it.”

I let out a short laugh to hide my nervousness. “Who said I’m telling?” I set my glass back on the table and inclined my head toward the vial. “I wouldn’t show that off in public too much.” What I really wanted to say was, ‘Put that goddamn stuff away before you get us both killed’, but I refrained because it would not do to lose my cool.

“You don’t need to tell me how to handle my affairs,” he retorted, but at the same time, he made the vial disappear with a sleight of hand that would do a magician proud.

“There is no way anyone can trace that back to me, right?” Malloy had a wide network and a reputation for discretion. But the contents of that vial could bring a lot of unwanted attention.

He sat up straighter. “Like I told you last time; I wouldn’t be in business very long if I gave away my suppliers. And I got to protect my own head, too. I move my stuff through some middlemen who’d take the names of their business contacts to the grave. Ain’t no profit in talking. And those guys have no idea where I obtain my merchandise. You can be sure I ain’t telling anyone.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I slid out of the booth. I’d stayed here too long already.

“Wait! I have some other items you might be interested in – if you can get more of this stuff, that is.”

I stood and put my hand over the small bulge inside my coat. “I got what I came for. If I need anything else, I’ll be in touch.”

He shook his head. “You know, you are way too serious for a girl your age. You ought to loosen up, have fun every now and then.”

I turned toward the exit. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

The sun’s glare blinded me after the bar’s gloomy interior and I blinked a few times, sagging against the heavy wooden door. God, I hate this. My hands trembled as I pulled up my sleeve to glance at my watch. “Damn it.” I pushed away from the door, cursing Malloy for running late. My business with him would all have been for nothing if I stayed here much longer.

I pulled my short coat together and set out to meet Remy, making it to the bus stop two streets away just in time to catch the next bus. Sinking gratefully into a seat in the back, I leaned against the window and watched the streets and buildings flash by. We passed a football field where a practice game was in progress and I watched a group of cheerleaders waving red and white pompoms. My hand went to the lump in my pocket and the weight of the responsibility I carried made me feel years older than the girls on the field.

The bus line ended near an old brewery that went out of business two years ago and I jumped off in front of the padlocked gates. No Trespassing signs hung along the wire fence and the whole place had a sad, deserted look about it. My nose twitched as it always did at the smell of sour barley that lingered there as I hurried past it.

Behind the brewery was an older subdivision of duplexes and two-story houses, most of them need a fresh coat of paint. Five years ago this was a thriving neighborhood before the brewery shut down along with the automotive parts plant that had employed half this area. Now the lawns were overgrown and the cars in many of the driveways were badly in need of maintenance. A country song blared from someone’s stereo and in another house, a young couple argued until a baby started to bawl loudly. I passed a group of younger kids playing road hockey but they largely ignored me. I did stop for a moment to rub the head of a familiar lab-shepherd mix that trotted up to greet me, but when he made to follow me I shooed him back. He stared after me forlornly, but I was too busy to play today.

At the last stop sign, I turned right and jogged down an empty street lined with tired-looking boarded up old houses and yards that backed up to the woods. I slipped between the last two houses and ducked under a broken board in the fence of the last house. Grass and weeds had taken over the backyard, while ivy strangled the ancient swing set and covered the back of the house. I followed a narrow path through the grass to the back door where I gave a quick look around and then slipped inside.

“Remy, you here?” I called softly.

It was dark in the house except for the dusty bands of light that spilled in between the boards over the windows. Thankfully I knew the house pretty well and I didn’t need much light to find my way around. I left the kitchen and walked down a short hallway. On my right was the empty shell that used to be a living room and on my left was the closed door to the den. I pushed the door and it swung inward on creaky hinges.

“Remy?” I whispered loudly, trying to see through the dense shadows of the room. Silence greeted me. Where the hell is he? I spun around to go back the way I’d come.

“Argh!” I found myself face-to-face with a thin, pale grey face with large round violet eyes and a mop of shaggy gray-brown hair. I stumbled back and he reached for me, grabbing my shoulders in a strong grip that belied his slender build.

“Jesus, Remy!” I slapped a hand to my chest as he steadied me. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

The troll gave me a lopsided grin, revealing a row of short sharp teeth. “You too young for heart attack,” he said with a fierce little smirk that would send a chill through anyone who did not know him.

“You late,” he chastised me.

“I’m sorry. Malloy was twenty minutes late and I got here as fast as I could. How are they doing?”

“Not so bad. Fren worried but I tell him if Sara says she gets medicine, she will.” He gave me an expectant look.

I smiled and pulled the package from inside my coat to lay it in his eager hands. “Have I ever let you down?”

Remy immediately turned and headed to the kitchen with me close on his heels. Curious about the contents of the package that had come at such a high price, I watched as he removed the cloth to reveal a small rectangular wooden box. He lifted the lid and poured the contents out into a large shallow stone bowl, then picked up a smooth rounded stone and began to grind whatever was in the bowl. I moved closer and saw pale golden crystals the texture and color of coarse cane sugar. As Remy ground the crystals into powder the smell of rotten eggs and ammonia I’d gotten earlier grew stronger. I waved a hand in front of my nose. Definitely not sugar. Remy had called it Baktu when he asked me to find it but he hadn’t been too clear on exactly what it was, just that it came from someplace in Africa.

He quickly reduced the crystals to powder then he spat in the bowl several times and stirred the mixture with a smooth wooden stick to make a thick paste. “Come,” he said, at last, taking up the heavy bowl and heading for the stairs. I followed him quietly. My part was done and the rest was up to my friend now.

In the first room at the top of the stairs, a pallet of rags had been laid on the bare wooden floor and a small dark shape lay curled up on the rags whimpering. The upstairs windows were not boarded up so I could make out the creature’s rounded body and long spindly limbs. Kneeling by the pallet was a second creature and his ugly squashed face looked at us hopefully when we entered the room. I gave him a smile and pointed at the bowl in Remy’s hands and he grunted softly to his mate who replied in kind. I had no idea what they were saying because I didn’t speak boggie, but it didn’t take much imagination to guess that he was reassuring her.

Remy knelt beside the pallet and I stood behind him where I could observe but not get in the way. He laid the stone bowl on the floor and grunted at the boggies in their own language. Then he gently repositioned the female boggie until she lay on her back with her swollen belly bared to us. Boggies live in bogs–as their name implies – and they are usually covered in mud. The female was unusually clean and I wondered if Remy had done it in preparation for the procedure.

Fren, the male boggie, moved closer and took one of his mate’s small hands in both of his. His large eyes brimming with love but it could not hide the fear I saw in his face. I wanted to tell him it would be okay but he could not understand me, and I wasn’t sure if everything would be alright. According to Remy, boggies normally have easy births, but Mol’s pregnancy had been very difficult. After being ill for months, she was very frail and her baby refused to come. Boggie pregnancies are not like human pregnancies where the baby comes after nine months. If the mother is sick or weak, the body will not go into labor. If the baby is not delivered, both mother and child will die.

I watched as Remy began to smooth the paste over Mol’s extended belly with gentle hands. She stiffened and made a weak mewling sound because her belly was so swollen and tender that the slightest touch hurt her. This close to her, I could sense her pain and fear, and a familiar urge awoke in me; the need to go to her and try to take away the pain. But I trusted Remy and right now he was Mol’s best chance of getting through this. I just clenched my hands and observed.

He finished applying the thick paste and laid the bowl aside. Then he spread his long hands across Mol’s belly and applied the slightest pressure against the bulge that was her unborn child. He started to chant in troll tongue and I only recognized a handful of words, but they were enough to tell me that he was praying. Trolls are deeply faithful to their god and they mix prayer with their magic in whatever they do. I had seen enough of Remy’s abilities to have great respect for his faith and his magic.

The paste soon dried to a brittle shell and I noticed that Mol seemed to be in less pain now and able to bear the weight of Remy’s hands. Was it working?

Mol’s scream made the hair lift on the back of my neck. I fell to my knees beside Remy as Mol’s stomach began to contract so violently that her whole body shook from it. “What’s wrong?”

“This normal,” he replied, lifting his hands from the boggie. “Baby coming.”

“It’s coming?” I asked dumbly. Mol looked like she was being ripped apart from the inside, not about to deliver a baby. But then I had no idea what was normal for a boggie birth. Like most of the People, boggies are secretive and shy of humans. It was a sign of their gratitude and respect that I was permitted to stay and witness this event. Tears filled my eyes as I watched nature take over and Mol’s body find the strength it needed to bring her baby into the world.

Fren was there to take the infant when it arrived. The little brown body was incredibly small and doll-like and made no sound when its father cradled it in his arms. Fren stared at his newborn and ran his fingers over the infant’s face as if he could not believe it was real.

“Shouldn’t the baby be crying?” I whispered to Remy, trying not to disturb the boggies. Fren cooed at the baby and Mol lay there with her eyes closed, too exhausted to even look at her child.

Remy nodded, his face grim.

That’s when I felt it, the familiar pulling sensation drawing me toward the baby like steel to a magnet. I gasped softly. “He’s sick, so sick…” The first icy tendrils of death brushed my skin and I knew we were too late. If I’d only gotten here earlier.

I yanked off my coat. “Give him to me! Hurry, there’s not much time.” Already I could feel a new life draining away.

Remy reached for the baby but Fren shook his head, holding the little body to his chest. Grunting forcefully, Remy leaned forward again. Whatever he said to the boggie worked because Fren relinquished the infant to him. I held out my hands and Remy placed the naked, wrinkled little body in them. It was no bigger than a week old kitten and as soon as I touched it I felt the weak fluttering heartbeat and the coldness already settling into the tiny limbs. “Try to hold on, little one,” I murmured as I pulled him to my own chest and covered him with my hands. Then I reached inside of myself and let my wall down.

It was like opening a furnace door. Heat flared in my chest and roared through my veins like a spark following a fuse. I didn’t have to tell my power where to go, it always knew. My body buzzed like a live wire as currents of energy raced along my nerve endings toward my hands and chest, any part of me touching the dying creature.

Normally I release the power in a controlled stream, letting it flow gently to find the source of injury or illness. It’s so strong, so forceful, that I worry it will shock my patients and kill them outright. But when a body is shutting down and preparing to die, a jolt to the system is sometimes the only thing that can help it. It’s kind of like those defibrillator paddles they use in emergency rooms, only mine works on the whole body instead of just the heart. That’s the only way I know how to describe it; my power didn’t exactly come with an operations manual.

The heat pooled in my hands until they gave off a pale white glow. Hotter and hotter the fire burned until it felt like I grasped a hot metal pipe, but I didn’t stop. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and held on, waiting for the power to grow to the right intensity before I released it.

Power exploded from my hands, pouring into the little body. I felt it race through veins and bones and weave through tissue, saturating every cell like a spring storm saturating the earth. My power is an extension of me so I felt it coiling around the failing heart, pulsing and surging. With each push it sent a spike of energy through the heart, causing the creature to jerk and spasm before it went still again. I sent wave after wave of power into the body, praying that each would be the one to fix the damaged heart.

I lost track of the minutes but at least ten passed before I was forced to accept that I could not save the boggie. My power was the only thing keeping his heart pumping and I could not keep it up much longer. One of the earliest and cruelest lessons I learned about my power is that sometimes I can’t save someone, no matter how much of myself I pour into them. I held the baby away from me and felt a painful tug at my chest when I looked at its lifeless face. I’m so sorry, little one.

A broken sob rent the air. I opened my eyes to meet Mol’s stricken stare as she grieved for the baby she had never held in her own arms. My heart ached for her. No one should watch the one they love die.

It’s not fair! We had done everything right. Mol’s baby deserved to live.

I pulled the power back to me until my hands grew hot again. The pain lanced through me but I barely felt it past the anger building inside me. I sent power shooting back through the baby with the force of a lightning strike. That much energy could stop a heart completely but there was nothing to lose now.

The power drained away. I was used up and vaguely aware of Remy and Fren breathing and Mol’s sobs as the little heart pressed against mine gave a long irregular flutter and stopped.

There was only silence.

Then… lub-lub, lub-lub, lub-lub.

Then the slightest of movements as tiny lungs expanded with their first breath of air.

Then the tickle of a tiny foot moving against my chest.

I lifted the infant, cupped in my hands, and watched in wonder as the squashed little face quivered and the tiny mouth opened. It started as a faint wheezing sound that quickly became a mewling wail and suddenly my hands were full of a squirming, crying, healthy baby boggie.

I laughed and cried at the same time as shouts filled the room. Mol grunted anxiously and held out her arms and I laid her baby boy on her chest. I watched as mother and father touched their child with awe, exploring the baby they both thought they had lost.

I sat back heavily and then laid down on the dusty floor. Healings always drain me, some more than others, and normally I just need a few minutes of rest to put me right again. But bringing back a life from so close to death is very hard and my body felt like I had run half a marathon. No matter how many times I used my power, it did not get easier.

I was six when I discovered what I could do. In the beginning, I often overdid it until I learned not to drain myself too much. It’s easy to overlook your own welfare when you are trying to save a life. I had to learn how to lock my power away unless I needed to call on it. Otherwise, every time I came within a few feet of a sick or injured creature, the energy got sucked right out of me. Now when I heal, I let out just enough to do the job. Releasing a torrent of power as I’d just done for the boggie was almost like overloading a circuit, except there is no breaker to reset my energy. My power always replenishes itself; it just takes a little while.

A cool hand touched my arm. “You okay, Sara?” I heard the worry in Remy’s voice and I gave him a weary smile.

“I’ll be fine. You know how I am. Just need to rest a bit.”

“Yes, you rest.” He gently lifted my head and stuffed my folded jacket beneath it. I heard him talking to Fren and Mol and sounds of movement but it all became muffled as I drifted off.

Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, I felt a familiar stirring in the back of my mind. After expending so much power, I was not surprised it was on the move. It was always active after healing when my power was low. Not that it would get far. Even exhausted, I had enough left in me to push it back down.<

I called it the beast. It used to scare me having this dark thing inside my head even though I knew it came with my power. I read a quote once that said ‘when you light a candle, you also cast a shadow’ and I wondered if the same was true for me. My power was the candle – bright and warm – and the beast was its shadow – sullen and dark. Remy said that most power is a balance of good and bad and I should not be afraid of something that is a part of me. I did not embrace the beast, but I had no choice but to learn to live with it.

The room was quiet when I woke up and the long shadows told me it was late afternoon. Turning my head to the side, I saw I was alone. The boggies had most likely gone home but I knew Remy was still here. He would never leave me alone while I recovered.

I groaned as I got to my feet. My body ached, partly from the intense healing and partly from lying on the hard floor, and I stretched several times to get the kinks out. Then I picked up my coat and went downstairs where I found Remy looking out through the cracks in one of the boarded-up living room windows. I walked over and leaned against the wall, ignoring the peeling wallpaper that snagged my hair.

He smiled down at me. “You sleep deeply this time. Feel better?”

“That was a hard one,” I admitted. “But worth it.” I heard laughter outside and I peered through the crack at a group of teenage boys hanging out down the street. Remy had been watching them in case any of them decided to venture this way while I slept. I wondered what they’d do if they came in and found a troll waiting for them. Probably wet their pants. If I didn’t know my fierce friend I’d probably do the exact same thing.

“Mol and the baby are okay?” I asked.

“Yes. Fren and Mol take the baby home to show family. They say you have big magic. Ask if you are a sorceress.”

“Hardly.” If any magic had happened here today, it had come from Remy, the way he’d helped Mol deliver her baby. Though he didn’t have my power, he was as much a healer as I was and his knowledge of medicines never failed to amaze me. In troll years he was still a teenager like me, but he already knew more than I could hope to learn in a lifetime.

He looked at the street again. “It gets dark soon.”

“Not for another hour. And I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Uncle will not be happy if you stay out late.”

“Nate’s not happy about most things I do,” I quipped. Remy shot me a disapproving look and I said, “You know it’s true. I love Nate but we’re just so…different. He wants me to be someone I’m not. He wants a normal niece who has girlfriends and joins the band or the cheerleading squad or whatever. That’s not me and it never will be.”

“That not true. He just wants you to be happy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when are you an expert on human parents?”

“All good parents want children to be happy.” He pushed away from the window.  
“Come. Boys leave.”

I poked him in the back as I followed him to the back door. “You know, you’re getting kind of bossy these days.”

He let out a gravelly laugh. “Not even trolls boss you.”

“That’s right! I’m a strong independent woman and don’t you forget it.”

We crossed the yard and slipped through the fence. Remy turned to me. “You do good today."

“ We did good,” I said. “By the way, you never did tell me what Baktu is.”

“Baktu is winged serpent from desert lands.”

My brows drew together. “Huh? How does a serpent turn to crystals?”

“Crystals not a serpent. It dried baktu dropping.”

“Dropping? You mean poop?” I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh! That’s disgusting, Remy!”

Remy laughed and started for the woods. “Baktu is a poisonous serpent. Dropping makes strong medicine.”

Before I could reply he disappeared. I envy the way trolls can melt into their surroundings like vanishing into thin air. It’d be a handy skill to have at times.

The streets were empty when I walked back to the bus stop. Even though it was a Saturday evening, not a lot of people were headed into town so there were plenty of seats to choose from on the bus. The same driver always drove this route on weekends and he nodded at me when I dropped my change in the farebox.

At least I could relax on the return trip because Remy and I had done what we set out to do. I’d helped save two lives today – how many girls my age get to say that? Not that I enjoyed hanging out in smoky bars, doing illicit business with people who are the underworld equivalent of drug dealers. Just because I had enough wits to keep a cool façade and act like I knew what I was doing did not change the fact that I was in way over my head. But I couldn’t stop now, not when lives depended on me.

When Remy asked me two years ago to help him find powdered chimera horn to help a dying kelpie I had no idea there was an actual black market for that and practically anything else you can think of – if you can pay. Since then I’d found half a dozen other items for him and I also got pretty good at negotiating since none of them were cheap or easy to find. It’s not like you can buy hydra scales on Amazon or eBay. Well not yet anyway.

We were lucky that Remy could afford to buy pretty much anything. Of course, there are some things more valuable than even money, like the contents of the vial I gave Malloy, rare and nearly impossible to obtain. He’d sell his own mother to know how I’d gotten my hands on it but I’d never tell him – or anyone else. It was dangerous enough just letting someone like Malloy know that I had some to trade. People killed for a hell of a lot less. And if Remy’s people ever found out what we were up to… I shuddered at the thought.

Troll bile is a potent drug and priceless, not just because of what it can do but also because there are few brave enough to try to get it. Trolls are not only secretive and elusive; their vicious reputation keeps humans and nonhumans alike from seeking them out, let alone trying to take something from them.

It disgusted me when Remy first told me about it. But if you can get past the ungodly smell and not think about where it comes from, it has incredible regenerative properties. It can slow aging and degenerative diseases such as Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s and it can even reverse balding. I heard it can even fight certain types of cancer. I know from experience that it can not fix every injury, but half an ounce, like what I gave Malloy, could stop someone from aging for up to five years if used properly. It’s basically the fountain of youth and there are people who would pay almost anything to get their hands on it.

The younger the troll, the more potent the bile, but trolls are so protective of their young that it is near impossible to get close to them without meeting a horrible end. Remy gave me his own bile to barter with on his behalf, but his people would be furious if they ever got wind of what we were peddling. Trolls don’t like humans, though for some reason the elders tolerated Remy’s friendship with me. But I didn’t kid myself about where I stood with them. I was still just a human.

The bus pulled up to my downtown stop in front of the post office and I waved to the driver as I exited by the rear door. Market Street, the financial and commercial hub of New Hastings during the week, was quiet now except for the people heading to the Subway or Antonio’s. I crossed at the light and cut through the small parking lot between two buildings to come out on the end of the waterfront near the wharves. South of me lay the pier and the shops and restaurants that lined the waterfront. Almost home. After the day I’d had, all I wanted was to curl up in bed with a book for the rest of the night.

When two boys emerged from between the buildings ahead of me and ran across the waterfront to disappear down the bank by one of the fishing wharves, I recognized them right away. I knew they were probably up to no good but I was too tired and hungry to care. Let someone else deal with them.

Out of sight, one of the boys let out a familiar laugh and yelled, “Don’t let it get away.”

I stopped walking.

“Look at it, Scott. It’s half dead.”

“Ah hell!” I swore and turned toward the wharf.


	3. Chapter 2

I LOOKED DOWN at Scott Foley and Ryan Walsh on the beach below me. Tall and good looking with straight dark hair, Scott stood with his back slightly toward me. Ryan, who was a few inches shorter than Scott, stood several feet behind him, looking like he would rather be somewhere else. 

“Leave it alone.” Ryan ran a hand through his blond curls. “This is not cool, man.” 

“Dude, when did you turn into such a pussy?” Scott scoffed. “I’m only having some fun, and like you said, it’s half-dead already.” 

My fists clenched, and I scoured the beach for whatever animal they were talking about. Seeing nothing, I moved closer to the edge of the bank to get a wider view. 

I let out a yelp as my foot slipped out from under me, sending me tumbling down the four-foot embankment to land in an undignified heap at the feet of the two startled boys. Not exactly the entrance I would have chosen. 

For a moment neither of them moved. Then Ryan crouched and peered at my face through the curtain of dark hair that had come loose from my ponytail. “Whoa. You okay?” 

“I’m fine.” I pushed my hair back out of my face and got to my feet, wincing at the pain in my left ankle. I put my weight on it to test it. A light sprain maybe. Great. 

I faced the boys and found Scott’s wide-eyed gaze fixed on me. He narrowed his eyes when he realized who he was staring at. “What do you want?” 

My eyes left his to scan the beach. What the hell were they after? “You guys look like you’re searching for something. Anything I can help you find?” 

“No,” Scott retorted. His eyes went to a spot behind me, and I followed his gaze but saw nothing but a pile of old fishing nets. 

“Are you sure, because – ?” I broke off when the nets made a plaintive mewling sound. In the fading light I saw them move as a scrawny gray tabby emerged. The cat was a sorry sight. Its ribs stuck out painfully, and it walked unsteadily for a few seconds before sinking down on its hind legs. 

I whirled on Scott and Ryan, my eyes blazing. “You were going to hurt that cat!” 

“No.” Ryan could not meet my eyes. “I wouldn’t…” 

Scott shifted from one foot to the other. “Yeah right. Like we’d waste our time with that flea bag.” 

I stepped between them and the cat. Scott and I had known each other since elementary school, and if I knew one thing about him, it was how to tell when he was lying. “This is low, even for you, Scott.” 

A flush crept across his cheeks. “I told you I couldn’t care less about a stupid cat. And what’s it to you anyway?” 

“You think I’ll let you hurt a defenseless animal?” My voice rose. Scott always managed to irritate me, but for some reason I was having trouble keeping my anger in check this time. “Is this how you get your kicks on a Saturday night? Does this make you feel big and manly?” 

“Shut up!” Scott glared at me, and for a second I thought I saw something else in his eyes that looked like regret, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. 

Scott and I had been friends for a time way back in elementary school. He was the first person to approach me when I moved here, even though his buddies teased him about making friends with a girl. Our friendship was short-lived, ending the day I caught him and some other boys throwing rocks at an injured crow outside the school. I’d yelled at him, pushed him to the ground, and told him I could never be friends with someone like him. Any feelings of friendship he had for me quickly changed to animosity after I embarrassed him in front of the whole school like that. 

“Make me shut up.” Even as I said the words, I wondered what the hell I was doing. Why was I goading someone who had six inches and at least forty pounds on me – and who already couldn’t stand me? 

Scott’s face darkened. “If you know what’s good for you, Grey, you’ll get out of my face.” 

“Or what?” I took a step toward him. “You going to beat me up, too?” 

“Whoa! No one’s beating anyone up.” Ryan laid a hand on Scott’s arm. “Come on, Scott, let’s go. This is not worth it, man.” 

Scott shook off Ryan’s hand. “No one talks to me like that.” 

Try to stop me. The thought flitted maliciously across my mind. Another voice told me to calm down and step back, but I ignored it. Instead, I let out a mocking laugh. “Come on then, and shut me up if you can. If you’re man enough, that is.” 

Scott’s eyes glittered dangerously as he took a step toward me. 

“Dude, you can’t fight a girl.” Ryan sounded scared now. 

“Shut up, Ryan,” Scott and I said at the same time. I gave Scott a cheeky grin, and his nostrils flared. 

I glanced down at my coat and let out a sigh. “Just try not to bleed too much, okay. It’s a bitch to get blood out of this thing.” 

Scott made a choked sound, and Ryan yelled something as Scott raised his right arm. I didn’t know if he intended to strike me. I wasn’t even sure Scott knew what he was going to do. 

Roaring filled my ears and a strange prickling heat spread through my body. It felt nothing like the fiery power I’d released a few hours ago. This fire held no healing, just rage and wild exhilaration like a lion set free from its cage. In the back of my mind the beast stretched and swelled with joy. I blinked, and it was like a veil lifted from my eyes, bringing the world into startling focus. 

My right fist connected with Scott’s cheek before he even realized I had swung. I barely registered the pain in my knuckles as I watched him stagger back several feet from the force of my blow. Again , cried the beast, and my other hand curled into a fist. 

Scott recovered faster than I expected, and I ducked just in time to avoid the brunt of the powerful fist that would surely have knocked me senseless. I felt a sharp pain in my lower lip as his fist clipped it, and a coppery taste filled my mouth. 

“Scott!” Ryan yelled, his voice muffled in my ears. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Moving faster than I could have believed possible, my left fist plowed into Scott’s chin and spun him off balance. I pivoted on the foot I was sure I’d sprained just a few minutes ago and delivered a well-aimed kick to his midsection, a move I had never even attempted before. He doubled over with an agonized moan that made my lips curl into a wicked little smile. The beast crowed with glee. 

Scott roared and came at me like an enraged bull, but I sidestepped his charge and he stumbled past me. Behind me, I heard Ryan smother a laugh, but that only seemed to anger Scott more. He turned and came at me with both arms raised. 

My hand moved so fast it seemed to blur as my fist met Scott’s nose with a sickening crunch. He fell to his knees with both hands over his face. “You bitch!” he wailed. “You broke my nose!” 

Standing over him with my hands on my hips, I savored the delicious triumph at seeing my opponent brought low. I reveled in how easy it had been to take down a boy who was bigger and stronger than me. Heady with power, I spat, “You’re lucky that’s all I broke, you asshole.” 

“Jesus, Sara!” 

I felt Ryan’s eyes on me, and I took in his stunned expression as his gaze moved from me to his moaning friend. It was like a bucket of cold water in my face. The rage drained out of me along with the bizarre heat that had enveloped me a few minutes ago. What am I doing? I thought as the world around me returned to normal and I stared aghast at Scott’s bloody face. His nose was swelling grotesquely, and bruises were already beginning to show around his eyes. I was no angel, but I had never inflicted this kind of beating on another person. The knowledge of what I’d done made my stomach churn. 

“Scott, I – ” 

“Stay away from me, you fucking lunatic!” he growled, throwing a hand up to keep me from coming near him. As he spoke, a spray of blood dotted the rocks in front of him. 

I backed away, sick with remorse as he staggered to his feet. What the hell came over me and made me go all berserker on him? I was mad about the cat, yes, but Scott would have gone on his way if I had left well enough alone. I’d baited him and deliberately made him angry, and I had struck first. The memory of my fist hitting his face filled me with disgust. It was as if I’d been possessed, and if Ryan hadn’t spoken and woken me up, there was no telling what I might have done. 

“We were just messing around. You know he wouldn’t have hurt the cat, right?” Ryan asked, forcing me to look up and meet his gaze, to see the truth on his face. 

He turned away to help Scott climb the embankment. As soon as I was alone I sank down to sit on the ground, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. It was the beast. I always kept a tight grip on it, but whenever I used up some of my power for a healing, I felt it stirring, pressing against the walls that imprisoned it. Today I’d depleted my power so much that I lost control of it – and look what had happened. 

I hadn’t fought since I was ten and never with such intent to hurt someone. Hell, I’d never moved like that before. No wonder Ryan had looked at me like I was some kind of circus freak. 

A weak meow intruded upon my unhappy thoughts, and I lifted my head to see the scrawny little cat sitting beside me. Up close he looked even more pitiful with half a tail, one ear in tatters, and his whole body wavering like a breeze would blow him over. 

“Hey there, kitty.” I reached out to stroke the back of his head. He hissed but didn’t try to run away, which told me how sick he was. Animals were drawn to me, especially the sick ones. I think they could sense my power even when it was locked away. Even so, the feral ones needed a little encouragement to get past their natural fear of humans. 

I opened my power to let a wave of soothing calm sweep over him, and within thirty seconds he stopped hissing and leaned against my leg. As soon as my fingers made contact, I sent a stream of healing energy into his frail body and he immediately laid down. My hand moved down his back, feeling the bones almost poking through his skin as I sought out his injuries. He had mange and his fur was full of fleas, but there were no broken bones. I got rid of the fleas and mange, took care of a few cuts and scrapes and knocked a respiratory infection out of his lungs before I pulled back my hand, satisfied he would be okay. 

“There. You’re still one of the sorriest looking things I’ve ever seen, but I think you’ll make it.” I stood slowly, a little drained from my second healing today. “Stay away from those mean boys from now on, you hear me.”  
The cat’s amber eyes met mine, and he le out a sad yowl.

"None of that," I warned him as my heart felt a little tug. "I can't take you with me. I'm not supposed to bring home any more strays.” 

He got up and walked unsteadily over to rub his thin body against my calves. Even through my jeans I could feel the outline of his ribs. 

“No fair.” I sighed and bent down to scoop him up. He began to purr as soon as I cradled him in my arms. “Okay, you can come home with me for now, but I can’t guarantee anything. My uncle’s not exactly a cat person, and he still hasn’t forgiven me for the last houseguest I brought home.” 

* * *

The steel door swung open noiselessly on well-oiled hinges, and I slipped inside, easing it shut behind me. Silence greeted me. I started to smile, but it turned into a wince when the split in my lip stung. Eyes watering, I crossed the storeroom to the far wall and set the cat on the floor. I climbed one of the sturdy shelving units to the ceiling where I stuck my hand under one of the tiles and pulled out a small, black metal box. Inside the box were a few hundred dollars and a tiny vial of troll bile half the size of the one I’d given Malloy. The bile was my own personal stash that Remy insisted I keep on hand for emergencies. I usually healed very fast and hardly ever got sick – a benefit of having healing power – but it wouldn’t do for Nate to see me with a fat lip. 

I uncorked the bottle, tipped it to wet my finger and dabbed the pungent liquid to my swollen lip and bruised knuckles. There was an instant burning sensation, then blessed numbness as the sting faded away. I didn’t need a mirror to know that my lip was already mending and in no time it would be healed completely. The bile didn’t heal broken bones, but it made cuts and bruises disappear in minutes. I dabbed a bit on my knuckles and watched the redness fade from them, trying not to think of Scott who was probably having his nose reset right now. I corked the vial and put the box back in the ceiling, thinking that if anyone should have the bile right now it was him. 

“Come on, cat.” I picked him up again and headed for the stairs. 

Nate and I had a whole building to ourselves, which was actually pretty cool. Years ago the first floor used to house a bookstore, but it went out of business when the large chain stores came to town. After that, Nate decided that being a landlord was too much hassle. He didn’t really need the rent, so he decided not to lease the space again. We lived in the two-story apartment upstairs, and the bottom floor was mostly used for storage now and Nate’s home gym. 

I dragged my tired body up the stairs and slipped quietly into the apartment. Sounds from the den told me Nate was at work on his computer. I crept past the open door, hoping he was too involved in his work to notice my entrance.

"You missed dinner again."

I backtracked and stood in the doorway wearing an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I lost track of time.” 

Nate looked at me over the top of his monitor, and I met his green eyes that were so like my own. With the same chestnut hair and golden skin we resembled each other so much that people often mistook us for father and daughter. Nate’s hair was already streaked with gray, making him look a little older than his thirty-nine years, but I thought the gray suited him. Or maybe I told myself that to feel better about being guilty of putting some of that gray there. 

His hair was mussed, and the shadows under his eyes told me he wasn’t getting enough sleep again. He had been working night and day on his latest book, barely coming out to eat and sleep; he always got like that when he was near the end of the first draft. Nate wrote military suspense novels, and he was on the fourth book in his series. His work was very good. He didn’t know it, but I read all his books. 

“What on earth have you been up to? You look like you’ve been in a fight.” There was no accusation in his voice, just disappointment. I opened my mouth in denial, but he said, “You have blood on your coat.” 

“Oh.” I frowned at the spots of dried blood on the front of my tan coat. “This is my favorite one, too. I’d better put it in cold water.” 

“Sara,” he said in warning tone. I stopped, and he sighed heavily. “What happened?” 

I made a face. “You say that like I’m out there brawling every other day.” 

“So you were in a fight.” 

Busted. “I had a perfectly good reason.” I held up the cat so he could see it over his monitor. 

Nate stared at the scrawny bundle of fur in my arms. “Is that thing alive?” 

“Of course it’s alive!” I stroked the cat’s head, and he purred loudly. “Do you think I’d be walking around with a dead cat?” 

“Do you want me to answer that?” 

I made a face. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m into voodoo now, and I thought I’d start with zombie cats.” I wondered what he’d think if he knew there were people out there who really could reanimate corpses. 

He stared at me like he was trying to decide if that was a joke. I used the opportunity to try to slip away. 

“Not so fast. You still didn’t tell me what happened. Sit.” 

I took the chair in front of the desk and laid the cat on my lap as Nate maneuvered his motorized chair around the desk. He parked it two feet from me and said, “Spill it.” 

I told him about seeing Scott and Ryan chasing the cat and how I followed them to the beach. With as little detail as possible, I related the altercation between me and Scott, making the fight sound more like a shoving mach than a fight. I still felt so ashamed and afraid of what I’d done that I really didn’t want to relive it. 

“So where did the blood come from?” 

“Um… this poor little guy is all scratched up. It must have come from him.” 

He cast a suspicious look at the cat. “Speaking of your new friend – what do you plan to do with him?” 

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Clean him up and feed him for now.” 

Nate was silent for a long moment. I waited for the double scolding – one for fighting and the other for bring home yet another stray. My uncle wasn’t an animal hater. He just liked order in his home, and animals weren’t exactly the tidiest roommates. 

As if on cue, Daisy, our three-legged Beagle, limped into the room. I don’t know how she lost her leg. I used to see her around the waterfront, and it amazed me how well she moved on three legs. One day, six months ago, she didn’t move fast enough and got hit by a car. Healing her took a lot out of me, but I saved her. Nate was not happy when I came home with a dog, but who could put a three-legged dog out on the street? Now Daisy was his almost constant companion, and though Nate would never admit it, I knew he liked her company. 

Daisy came over to me and sniffed, and the cat let out a warning hiss. Chastised, the dog sat back on her haunches to watch the newcomer from a safe distance. 

“Sara, you’re seventeen, too old to be fighting with boys down at the wharf no matter what the reason.” I tried to speak up, but he held up a hand. “You spend too much time alone when you should be going out with your friends, having fun. And you should be dating boys – not fighting with them.” 

I squirmed on my chair. I was pretty sure no other teenage girl had a parent telling them to go out to parties and date. “I have friends,” I argued weakly. Okay, maybe I had never dated and I wasn’t a social butterfly, but I did have friends. As for girls, well they didn’t seem to warm up to me much. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t that they hated me; they just didn’t seem comfortable around me. 

Nate scoffed. “Friends like Greg, you mean? There’s a model of good behavior. I suppose that’s where you learned to fight.” 

“Greg is not a bad guy – and no, he didn’t teach me to fight. Just because he’s a biker doesn’t make him a criminal.” There was that one thing, but I didn’t think juvenile records counted once you reached eighteen. And I wasn’t about to bring that up to Nate. 

“He might not be a criminal, but he’s no angel either.” 

I had to suppress a smile because Nate was right about that. Greg was definitely no angel. A year older than me, Greg was already the school badass when I started high school and met him for the first time. He grew up working in his uncle’s bike shop, and he was tougher and brawnier than half the senior boys and not afraid to show it. There was something about the roguish tilt of his head and the gleam in his green eyes when he smiled – or scowled at you – that either drew you in or scared the heck out of you. I wasn’t sure if it was the way he did his own thing without a care for anyone’s opinion or the fact that he could have bullied anyone in school and chose not to, but I liked him immediately. He didn’t really associate with the other students, so I wasn’t sure why he’d decided to befriend me. One day he just started sitting with me at lunch, and when he got his first bike he gave me rides and took me to Jed’s with him and his friends. I’d even had a crush on him for a short while until his friend Mike told me I reminded them of Greg’s younger cousin, which put a damper on any romantic notions I had for him. 

I missed Greg. He and Mike had moved to Philadelphia right after graduation to work for Mike’s uncle who owned an automotive parts plant. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but as long as it paid the rent and kept his bike running, Greg was happy. We kept in touch through email, but it had been over a week since I’d last heard from him. 

“Greg moved to Philly, remember? I haven’t seen him since June.” 

“Well, I won’t pretend to be sad about that.” He tapped the arm of his chair. “What about Roland? I remember when you two used to be inseparable. And Peter, too.” 

“We still hang out. We just like to do some different things now; that’s all.” It wasn’t that Roland didn’t try to include me, and I did go to an occasional party with him. I just wasn’t into partying as much as my best friend. Roland understood that even if no one else did. 

“It seems like you’ve become more closed off the last few years. It’s not healthy to shut everyone out.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s my fault. I left you alone too much when you were younger. I know I’m not your father… I just wish I knew how to get through to you.” He gave me a pleading look. “You spend so much time alone or off doing God knows what. I have no idea where you are or what you’re doing.” 

“Nate, I – ” I faltered, because we always seemed to end up here. I mean, what was I supposed to say ? “Hey, Nate, guess what? I saved a life today. I have this amazing power that lets me heal things. But I can’t fix your spine because it doesn’t work on humans. By the way, can I invite my troll friend over for dinner?” 

He pressed a button on his chair, and it began to back around the desk again. “Go get some dinner. I left lasagna in the oven for you." 

I carried the cat to the kitchen and found a can of tuna for him, making a mental note to pick up some food for him tomorrow. Daisy followed us, and I poured some food into her dish before I popped my own dinner in the microwave. 

Nate’s lasagna was one of my favorite foods, but I could have been eating cardboard and not noticed it with the myriad of emotions swirling through me. What had happened to me on the beach? In the span of a few hours I went from saving a life to hurting someone. Seeing what I was capable of freaked me out more than a little. 

To top it all off I had lied to Nate again. I sat quietly at our small kitchen table, pushing my food around with my fork. I hated deceiving Nate, but there were too many things in my life that I couldn’t tell him about. It was easier to let him be disappointed in me than to try to tell him the truth. 

I wished there was a way to bridge the distance between us. He was all the family I had, and I knew my dad would have wanted us to be close. It wasn’t Nate’s fault; he had been a good parent to me after my dad’s death. I was pretty messed up when I came here, and I never opened up to him as much as I could have. And then I discovered Remy and the real world, and suddenly I had all these secrets I couldn’t share with anyone. 

It’s not that I didn’t care, because I loved Nate more than anything in the world. We just had so little in common. Nate was one of those people who didn’t believe in the paranormal or supernatural or anything that did not have a solid scientific explanation. He never read fantasy fiction or watched supernatural movies or TV shows. It drove him nuts when I watched Buffy reruns, so I usually watched them in my room. In some ways, he was more closed off than I was, and I wasn’t sure he could handle learning about my power and the real world around him. 

I rinsed my plate and retreated upstairs with the cat in my arms. The top floor of our building was split into an attic and an open space that served as my bedroom, kind of like a loft apartment without the kitchen. On one side stood my bed, dresser, and desk. Beneath the large window on the other side was a faded green couch that was barely visible under the clothes and books strewn across it, and beside the couch were two tall overflowing bookcases. My dad had been an English teacher, and he had loved books, especially the classics. He used to say “No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.” I looked it up a few years ago and found that it came from Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Sometimes I’m not too sure about God, but I agree with my dad and Browning about books. I’ve read all of his books and added my own to the collection. I think he’d be pleased to know I grew up to share his passion for reading.

The walls of my room were bare except for a few pictures of my dad and some of me, Roland, and Peter. Roland called the room depressingly empty and lamented the fact that I refused to replace my dad’s old stereo with a newer one. But I liked my space. It was private and I had my own bathroom, even if it was the size of a closet. The best part was that the room had lots of windows with a wide view of the bay. What more could a girl want? 

“Alright cat, let’s get you cleaned up before you go anywhere near my furniture.” I grabbed Daisy’s shampoo and a towel and proceeded to wash the filthy animal from head to toe. He was too lethargic from his meal and the healing to put up much of a fight, and he purred like a little engine when I toweled him dry. I set him down on an old blanket on the couch, and he stretched happily and curled into a ball, completely at home. 

After I set up the litter box used by our last feline guest, I left the cat to his nap and jumped in the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away more than the grime from today’s events. But nothing could cleanse me of the memories of what had happened with Scott. I had always thought of myself as a good person, but only a monster would relish hurting a person the way I had. I shivered despite the hot water flowing over me. 

My thoughts went to the little boggie family as I dried myself, and I wondered how they were doing. Instead of grieving the loss of a child tonight, Fren and Mol were at home with their new baby. I had saved a life today – that had to count for something. Was that enough to redeem me for the awful thing I’d done after? 

Dressed in a cami and my favorite pajama bottoms, I popped in a Fleetwood Mac CD and carried my sketchbook over to the bed. I’d inherited my dad’s CD collection, along with his love for seventies rock. It was one of the few things Nate and I had in common – our taste in music – and he even borrowed CDs on occasion. I shook off my regret as I flipped open the sketchbook to a clean page. If it wasn’t for this whole secret life thing I had going on, my uncle and I might have been a lot closer than we were. 

I thought about the boggies, summoning an image of the tiny boggie infant I’d held in my arms. My pencil flew over the paper as I tried to capture his likeness. I drew him in my hands because that was my clearest picture of him, the moment he opened his mouth and bawled for the first time. When I was finished, I smiled at the drawing of the little creature, his squashed face scrunched up unhappily and his tiny mouth open in a silent cry. I was no da Vinci, but my sketches weren’t half bad. It wasn’t like I shared them with anyone anyway. 

A tapping at one of the windows drew my attention away from my sketch, and I ran over to open the window to admit a large black crow. He cawed and flapped around the room a few times before landing on my outstretched hand. 

“Harper, it’s about time you came home,” I scolded him, stroking the soft feathers at the back of his neck. He’d been gone for two days, and I was worried he’d gotten into trouble. Technically, he didn’t live with us, but he liked to hang out here, especially on the roof. He had kind of adopted me after I saved him from Scott, but he still liked to go off and do his own thing. 

“If you’re hungry, there’s food in your dish,” I told him when he shifted restlessly, a cue that he wanted a treat. I wasn’t surprised when he left my hand, flew out the window, and headed for the roof. More than once I’d suspected he understood me when I talked to him. I read that crows were very intelligent, and Harper had gotten a good dose of my power when I’d healed him. Who knew what other affects my power had on animals? 

I left the window open for him and sat down at my laptop to check out the online activity. Today was the second time I’d used troll bile to purchase medicine for Remy, and I was paranoid as hell that someone would trace it back to me, and especially to Remy. It was the main reason I dealt only with Malloy. For all his crafty ways, Malloy was very discreet about his business. In his line of work he had to be if he didn’t want to end up gutted in an alley.

The message boards were busy. There was no mention of troll bile, but another thread caught my eye – one about vampire activity in Portland. Vampires were the most common topic discussed on the boards, and there were always tons of posts about vampire sightings, though it was pretty easy to distinguish the real deal from the hype. I’d never seen a vampire, but I knew plenty about them, mostly learned from Remy, and my education had taught me that Hollywood and fiction writers had absolutely no clue. 

Vampires usually kept to large cities where their hunting could be camouflaged by the higher crime rate. They lived in covens and liked to hunt in small packs, and while they were mostly active at night, mature vamps could handle exposure to daylight as long as it wasn’t direct sunlight and not for long periods. Younger vamps, those less than a hundred years old, were not strong enough to withstand even a minute of daylight. Most vamps, young and old, wouldn’t risk the chance of meeting the sun, so they stayed hidden during the day. 

And there were no solitary vamps wandering the earth with tortured souls waiting to be saved by true love. Vampires were pure evil, and their only redeeming quality was that they could be killed with the right weapons. Unfortunately, if a human got close enough to see a vampire in the flesh, chances were they would not survive to talk about it. 

The posting about Portland caught my attention because Portland was a little over an hour from New Hastings, and I used to live there with my dad. There usually wasn’t that much talk about the Portland area because its population was not big enough to hide unusual activity. So when I read that four teenage girls, all seventeen and eighteen, had disappeared in the last two weeks, a chill went through me. All the girls were reported as suspected runaways, though they had taken nothing with them and none of their friends believed they would run away. None of the girls knew each other, and the police had no leads. The poster said it looked like a vampire was at work in the area. 

Bile rose in my throat. Vampires took great pleasure in torturing their victims before they drain them. And what they left behind… A shudder passed through me as an image came unbidden to my mind. I closed my eyes, but the scene had been seared into my brain. 

I gritted my teeth and waited for the old fear and pain to pass. At times like this I wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and hide under my covers. But I didn’t. If there were vampires in Maine, I had to know. 

The rest of the thread did not offer any more information other than the girls had all disappeared at night. The user who had started the thread was a regular on the site, and we talked often. He really knew his stuff, so I pinged him and asked for a private chat. Within minutes, he popped up in a separate window. 

Wulfman: Sup, PG? Been a while. 

PixieGirl: Yeah, been busy. Reading your post. Vamps in Portland? 

Wulfman: According to my sources. Weird though. Not their usual scene. 

PixieGirl: Wonder what brings them back to Portland. 

Wulfman: Back? What do you know? 

Pause. 

PixieGirl: Knew someone killed by vamps ten years ago. 

Wulfman: Wow. I never knew. Sorry. 

PixieGirl: You remember any activity back then? 

Wulfman: I wasn’t on the scene then. I can check my sources and get back to you. 

PixieGirl: Thanks. 

Wulfman: It would help if I had the name of your friend who died. 

Long pause. 

Wulfman: Still there? 

PixieGirl: Yeah. His name was Daniel Grey.


	4. Chapter 3

The sparrow twiched restlessly in my hands, so I opened them and watched him take flight, his newly healed wing moving like it had never been broken. I giggled as he circled my head happily a few times then flew up to perch on a branch above me. 

“I hope you’re more careful next you see that old tom cat,” I told him as I stood and brushed dirt off my jeans. I pulled on my mittens and set off across the small park at the end of our street. The sky was heavy with gray clouds, and I could smell snow in the air. If we got enough snow this time, Daddy promised to take me sledding. My pace picked up, and I hurried home. 

I could hear our neighbor’s basset hound, Charlie, baying from halfway down the street, and I wondered what had upset him. Charlie was old, and he didn’t even bark at squirrels or cats anymore. When I reached our neighbor’s house I walked around to their backyard to see what Charlie was making so much noise about. It surprised me to find him straining at his wire run, barking and howling at my backyard. Something about the way his hackles were raised made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. 

I ran back out to the street and up the walkway to our front door. “Daddy, I think there’s something wrong with Charlie,” I called, opening the door. I tossed my mittens and cap on the bench in the hallway. “Daddy?” I called again. 

No answer. 

Where is he? The house was filled with the aroma of pot roast, so he had to be here. He would never leave with the stove on. 

Something did not feel right. Then I felt the cold draft coming down the hallway. He must have gone out back to see why Charlie was barking and left the door open. I shook my head. He was always scolding me for doing that. 

I smelled it just before I reached the kitchen, a warm coppery scent that made my stomach lurch and my pulse quicken. A cry burst from me when I stepped inside and saw the spray of red across the white cupboards and the trail of blood that disappeared out through the open door. 

Fear exploded in my chest. “Daddy!” I cried, running for the door. My boots skidded on the slick blood, and I flailed as I fell through the doorway, landing hard on my hands and knees on the back step. My head came up, and I saw the bloody steps, the broken railing, and… 

“No!” I crawled frantically toward the figure lying at the bottom of the steps, his favorite blue shirt shredded and bloody. I felt it then, the horrible pulling sensation of a life draining away. “No, Daddy, no!” I threw myself on him, begging him to stay with me as I poured my power into him until there was nothing left to give. It was not enough. His green eyes stared sightlessly at the gray sky as the first snowflakes touched his ravaged face. 

“No!” I came awake with a cry and stared blindly in the dark with my heart thudding against my ribs. Reaching up a trembling hand, I swiped at the tears on my cheeks and pushed damp strands of hair out of my face. I lay there for several minutes as my heart rate returned to normal and the last vestiges of the dream left me. 

The curtain fluttered, drawing my eyes to the pale light coming through the window. Far out in the bay a buoy clanged, and closer to shore a sea otter whistled. Soothed by the familiar noises, I threw off my covers and went to push the window open wider, letting cold morning air fill the room. I took a deep calming breath of ocean air as I listened to the muted sounds of the bay and let myself think about the dream. 

In the beginning the nightmare came every night, the same paralyzing dream that ripped me from sleep, screaming in terror. Time after time Nate tried to get me to tell him about the dream, to talk about what I’d been through, but to speak of the horror out loud and relive those moments was more than I could bear. 

I’d seen the police reports. Our neighbor called in the disturbance, and when the police responded they found me lying on top of my father’s body, both of us covered in snow. At first they thought I was dead too, until one of the policemen checked and found a pulse. I was rushed to the hospital, suffering from shock. The child psychologist who examined me later said I suffered from “severe psychological trauma from witnessing her father’s brutal murder.” She recommended a few weeks in a child psych ward. 

Nate’s response was “Absolutely not.” My uncle knew something about post traumatic stress. He was twenty-three when he was hit by shrapnel in Bosnia that left him in a wheelchair. He said I needed to be with family, and since my grandmother was too ill to care for a child, he brought me here to live with him. I knew it wasn’t easy for him, a single man in a wheelchair suddenly faced with raising a traumatized kid. But he did it anyway, and I loved him for it, though I could not find the words to tell him what it meant to me. Sometimes I thought of us as a pair of damaged bookends. We both had our flaws, but we belonged together even if there was always something between us, keeping us apart. 

My alarm clock said six o’clock, so I knew it was useless trying to go back to sleep. Instead, I drew the covers up over my bed and headed for the bathroom to get ready for school. I splashed cold water over my face and studied my pale complexion and my eyes that were still haunted by the lingering effects of the dream. I released a shuddering breath and started the shower. What a way to start the week. 

* * * 

“I heard her bike gang did it. He’s lucky he’s alive.” “

Seriously?” 

“Yeah, I think Greg McCoy just got out of prison or something.” 

“I had no idea she ran with such a hard crowd.” 

“You guys are all way off base. I say she did it herself, and knowing him, he deserved it.” 

I glanced up from my book, and the whispers died as the students at the surrounding tables suddenly found their lunch trays interesting. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I dabbed a French fry in ketchup and popped it in my mouth. I should have been used to it by now. When you keep to yourself, people will fill in the details about your life themselves. But a bike gang? Really? 

I looked at the end of my table where Jeffrey Crumb sat eating his hamburger and fries. He gave me a lopsided smile, sharing in my amusement over the gossip before he bent over his own book again. Blond and painfully thin, Jeffrey was two years younger than me, and he lived with his grandparents, one street over from me. I heard his mother was a serious drug addict who had gotten pregnant at eighteen and Jeffrey was born with a bunch of health issues. He was pretty smart but small for his age, and he found it hard to talk to other kids. We started sharing a table a few years ago because we both liked to read at lunch, even when Greg chose to sit with us. No one dared mess with Jeffrey after that, most likely because they were afraid I’d sic Greg on them. Greg might be gone now, but it looked like some of his reputation had rubbed off on me. I didn’t mind if it kept people from bothering us. 

I wondered how word got out about the fight because I knew Scott and Ryan would not tell anyone. I’d gotten a glimpse of Scott in Chemistry second period, and I’d had to suppress a gasp at his black eyes and swollen nose. Apparently no one was buying his story about swerving his car to avoid hitting a deer, but how on earth had they connected his bruises to me? 

I gave a mental shrug and went back to my well-worn copy of Jane Eyre . As long as they left me alone, they could think whatever they wanted. 

The chair across from me scraped over the floor as someone pulled it out and sat down. I didn’t bother to look up. “Go away. I’m busy.” 

A hand snaked out to grab one of my fries. When I didn’t object, it reached for another one. I pushed the plate toward the hand. “Help yourself.” 

“Hmm, I don’t see any bruised knuckles. What did you do, take a baseball bat to him?” 

I lifted my gaze to Roland Greene’s laughing blue eyes. He leaned toward me, and his dark bangs fell over his forehead. “So?” he asked, pushing his hair back. It was a useless gesture. I kept telling him he needed to cut it, but he said the girls liked it that way. Based on the number of girls making cow eyes at him right now, he was probably right. 

“So what?” 

Roland snorted. “Don’t even go there. What happened?” 

I picked up my Coke can and took a long swallow, debating whether or not to tell Roland the truth. He wouldn’t repeat it if I asked him not to, but there was no way he’d be able to hide his gloating and that would just confirm everyone’s suspicions. Scott wasn’t on his favorites list either. 

“Hey, did you guys see Scott Foley’s face? I heard some gang beat him up.” Peter Kelly took the chair next to Roland, his cheeks flushed and his rusty hair sticking out at all angles as usual. His green eyes flashed as he leaned in and lowered his voice. “Of course that’s not half as interesting as the other story I heard.” He gave me a meaningful look. 

I shook my head. “Sorry to disappoint – ” 

“Sara almost made him cry.” 

My mouth fell open as I swung my head to stare at Jeffrey. 

Roland smirked at me and slid his chair over next to Jeffrey. “Is that so? Why don’t you tell us about it?” 

I shook my head. “You weren’t there, Jeffrey.” 

“Ha! So you did do it,” Roland crowed. 

Peter’s eyes widened. “You really beat up Scott Foley? How is that possible?” 

“Hey!” 

“No offense, Sara, but Scott is way bigger than you and… well, you’re a girl.” 

“Gee, thanks for pointing that out.” 

“She’s the best fighter I ever saw,” Jeffrey declared. “I was on the wharf, and I saw it all. She was super fast, too.” 

Roland grinned wickedly and moved back across from me. “So now are you gonna tell us what happened?” 

“I hit him. He hit me. We went our separate ways.” 

“Nice try. We want details,” Peter said. 

I took another sip of Coke, wondering how much I could tell them. “Scott was tormenting a cat,” I said in a low voice, not wanting to share with the whole cafeteria. “I overreacted a bit and hit him. There’s really not much to tell.” 

“She kicked him in the privates, too,” Jeffrey piped in loudly, making Roland and Peter wince. I heard snickers from the table closest to us. 

Peter looked at my hands. “How is it you hit him hard enough to break his nose and your knuckles aren’t even red? And I don’t see any bruises on your face either.” 

“You know I hardly ever bruise. Besides Scott barely touched me.” And I have the world’s best first aid kit at home. 

Roland shook his head. “I don’t know what it is with you and Scott. He always gets weird around you.” He chewed another fry. “He’s never going to live down getting his butt kicked by a girl. Sorry, Sara, but it’s true. I’d feel bad for him if he wasn’t such an ass.” 

I could only shrug because I wasn’t proud of what I’d done. It was true that I didn’t like Scott, but I’d attacked him, not the other way around. And I knew, even if Scott didn’t, that it wasn’t exactly a fair fight. 

I glanced at my watch. I still had about twenty minutes left before English, but I had no desire to sit there and relive the whole Scott thing again. “Well, boys, it’s been fun, but I gotta run.” 

“Wait.” Roland laid a hand over my book before I could take it. “Friday night Pete and me are going to hear Dylan’s new band play at the Attic. You want to come?” 

I made a face. “Is he still doing that rap thing?” 

“Nah, his new band is more rock… kind of like Pearl Jam. They’re pretty good.” 

“I don’t know.” 

Roland tilted his head to one side and gave me a dimpled smile. “Come on. We haven’t hung out in ages.” 

I rolled my eyes at him. “You know that doesn’t work on me, right? Besides, don’t you guys have camping or something this weekend?” For the last few years, Roland and Peter had been going on weekend outdoor trips with their cousins once a month. Their families were close, and they did a lot of things together. Roland complained about having family always up in his business, but I envied him. My dad and I were close like that before he died. 

“We just got back.” Peter shook his head at Roland. “I can’t believe we were gone a whole weekend and she didn’t even notice.” 

Roland put on a wounded expression. “That hurts.” 

I grinned at their lame antics. “After a weekend in the woods, I’m surprised you don’t have a date lined up for Friday night already, Roland.” 

“Sara, you know you’re the only girl for me.” He laid a hand over his heart. “I’m just passing time until you realize that.” 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw two girls at a nearby table watching his display with equal expressions of jealousy and dismay. “Yeah, okay. Cool it, Romeo,” I said, laughing. “Before you break every heart in here and start a lynch mob after me.” 

“What?” he asked innocently. I shook my head because I knew Roland was not as clueless about his effect on the opposite sex as he let on. Girls had started chasing him around long before he began to notice them. Then he went through a growth spurt in eight grade and bam – instant heartthrob. His casual disregard for rules added just enough bad boy to his image to make the entire female student body lust after him. I couldn’t fault a guy for having good genes, but I often thought Roland was a little insensitive where girls were concerned. He dated a girl a few times, and as soon as she started to get serious, he ended it. He was always nice about it, which probably made it even worse for them. Whenever I said anything about it, he argued that no one’s heart gets broken after two dates. But I’d seen the pining faces more than once. I loved my friend, but he was an idiot when it came to matters of the heart. 

“I’ll cool it if you say you’ll go to the Attic with us. Come on, we’ll have a blast.” 

“I’ll think about it,” I said, taking my book from him and stuffing it in my bag. 

I left the two of them finishing my plate of fries. No one else spoke to me as I made my way to the door, but I heard the whispers. Already, Jeffrey’s comments were circulating the cafeteria. 

The door swung open just as I reached it, and I had to step back to avoid getting whacked in the face. The malicious smile on the face of the pretty blond standing in front of me told me she had been aiming for me. I wasn’t surprised. Faith Perry and I weren’t friendly on a good day, and I didn’t expect her to be happy after what had happened to her boyfriend. 

“Excuse me.” I started to walk past Faith, but she moved to block my way. I groaned inwardly as the cafeteria fell silent behind me. It was only the second week of my senior year, and already I was wishing for graduation. 

“Are you happy?” she hissed, her venomous green eyes glittering. 

I pasted an innocent expression on my face. “About what?” 

Faith tossed her long, straight hair back over her shoulder. “I’m talking about Scott.” 

At that moment, I spotted Scott and Ryan coming down the hallway toward us. They stopped walking when they saw me and Faith. Scott’s eyes flashed angrily then looked away as if he couldn’t face me. 

I shrugged. “Seriously, Faith? You honestly think I could have done that ?” I spoke loud enough for my voice to carry to the people behind me. “Do I look like I was in a fight?” 

That brought her up short, and she stared at me as if she noticed my lack of bruises for the first time. I felt Scott’s gaze on me, and I knew he must be wondering how I didn’t have a fat lip today. 

“How the hell do I know?” Faith scoffed. “For all I know you had those loser biker friends mess him up. I wouldn’t put it past you.” 

I bristled. If anyone here liked to hurt other people it was Faith. She’d been a bully ever since we were little kids, and she’d only grown worse as we got older. When I started school here, Faith was not happy that Scott wanted to be my friend and did everything she could to make my life miserable. I was already devastated from losing my dad, and she might have broken me if it wasn’t for Roland. His friendship had filled some of the aching void inside me and gave me the strength to stand up to Faith. I’m not sure what made her dislike me more – not being able to hurt me anymore or the fact that Scott had liked me first – but she’d hated me ever since. I usually kept my distance from her because it was just not worth the hassle. 

“You know what, Faith?” I took a step toward her, and she stumbled back. I leaned toward her, and I could sense everyone in the cafeteria craning forward in their seats. “If I were you,” I whispered in her ear, “I’d be less worried about whether or not a girl beat up my boyfriend and more concerned about why my boyfriend wasn’t with me.” 

Faith’s mouth fell open. It probably wasn’t wise to stir her up like that. After years of crushing on Scott, Faith had finally gotten him, but she was very jealous where he was concerned. If she weren’t such a bitch, I would have told her not to worry because she and Scott were made for each other. 

I pushed past her, leaving behind a room full of curious onlookers. More people had stopped in the hallway to hear our exchange, and I ignored their stares as I walked past them. Scott stepped aside when I reached him and Ryan, and our eyes met briefly. I could see the confusion and suspicion on his face, and I knew he was wondering why I’d denied hitting him when I could have totally humiliated him in front of half the school. I just walked by because I had no desire to explain my actions to him or anyone else. Let him think what he wanted. 

The rest of the afternoon was quiet. There were no more run-ins with Faith, and Scott kept his distance as well. Neither of them was going to forgive or forget any time soon, but I had a feeling Scott would keep a wide berth from me for a while. I hoped they both did because I didn’t like the person I became around them. 

I was on Market Street on my way home after school when I started to feel like someone was watching me. It was an eerie sensation, but I shook it off and cut though the small parking lot between the pub and the antique store, emerging on the waterfront. Our place was the seventh one down at the end of the row. 

Just as I passed the pub, the feeling of being watched came over me again, stronger this time. Was someone following me? I stopped and listened for footsteps, but this close to the beach the gulls and waves drowned out a lot of noises. It was the middle of the afternoon so I was not afraid, but I was growing annoyed. 

“Scott or Faith, if that’s you, you’d better turn around and go home right now if you know what’s good for you,” I called, not really expecting an answer. 

After a few seconds I resumed walking. It was a warm afternoon, and there was barely any wind, save for the light breeze on my ankles. I watched absently as leaves from the lonely maple tree in front of the coffee shop swirled around my feet then tumbled ahead of me like a playful puppy all the way home. 

“What the – ?” I came up short when I rounded the corner of our building and came face-to-face with a mini whirlwind of leaves and dirt hovering directly in my path. I stood and watched the leaves spinning faster and faster as the little cyclone picked up more of them and began to form a blurry outline about three feet high. My mouth fell open, and I snapped it shut as a creature I had only heard about took shape before me. I knew about elementals of course, but I had never dreamed I’d see one up close in my lifetime. I didn’t know whether to be scared or excited by the rare appearance. 

“Um, hello,” I said hesitantly. 

The sylph made a movement that looked like a bow, and not knowing the proper etiquette for elementals, I bowed in return. That seemed to please her because she moved closer until I could hear a soft whispery sound, almost like the wind in the fireplace flue during a storm. When I listened closely I could pick out words. “Hello, Sara Grey,” she said in a breezy voice. “I am Aine.” 

I swallowed and sat down hard on the bottom of the stairs to our apartment. She knew my name. Why would an air elemental know my name? A lot of the People in these parts knew me for my healing, but I doubted a sylph needed my help in that area. I wouldn’t even know where to start anyway. 

“Do you need my help, Aine?” I asked, and I heard a whispery laugh. 

“I have watched you and seen your power and how good you are to the People. You are a kind child.” 

“I’m almost eighteen.” 

The sylph laughed again, and I could not help but smile. She had lived countless lifetimes, and compared to her I was an infant. 

I didn’t know a whole lot about elementals except that they were super powerful and they pulled their power from the earth. They were highly revered by the People, including the trolls. Remy talked about elementals sometimes, but even he had never met one. 

“Aine, do you know where my power comes from?” If anyone could answer that question, it was an elemental. Maybe she was here to give me the answers I desperately wanted. 

Aine moved closer until I could feel her brush against my legs. I wanted so much to lean down and touch the distorted shape, but I was afraid she might vanish. 

“All power comes from the earth,” she answered cryptically. She moved away again. “Why do you heal the People, little sister?” 

The question caught me off guard; no one had ever asked me that before. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t I heal them?” 

“Humans fear the People. You do not.” 

“No. Some of them are my friends.” 

“And what of the ones who don’t wish to be your friend? Do you help them?” 

I wished I could see the sylph’s face clearly to understand the reason for her questions. “I’ve never had to make that decision, so I honestly can’t say what I’d do. I guess I would help most creatures.” 

Aine seemed to hang in the air in front of my eyes. “Most – but not all?” 

“Well, I’m not going to heal something that will turn around and kill humans, if that’s what you mean. I know there are some who aren’t nice, but they aren’t evil either. I’d help them if they asked for it.” 

“And you decide who is evil and who is not?” 

I let out a short laugh. “I think the evil ones are easy enough to identify.” 

A long moment passed before the sylph nodded. “You are wise for one so young. I am glad I came to meet you.” 

“I’m glad, too.” This was one of the strangest conversations I’d ever had, and I half expected to wake up in my bed and find out it was all a dream. 

“I think we will meet again, little sister.” The swirling mass of air began to move away until it suddenly dissipated, leaving a loose pile of dirt and leaves on the ground. 

An elemental. I just met an elemental!

I sat on the steps for a good ten minutes after she disappeared because it took me that long to recover from the shock of my encounter. Elementals were extremely elusive beings, and I could not fathom why Aine would come here just to talk to me. I had a little power, yes, but it was nothing compared to her immense magic. And she said she had been watching me? For how long and why? 

Nate was in his office when I finally schooled my face into a somewhat normal expression and went inside. I grabbed a blueberry muffin from the kitchen to tide me over until dinner and went upstairs, calling hello to Nate as I passed his door. Throwing my backpack on my bed, I changed my clothes, put on some Carly Simon, and sat at my laptop. I was dying to know if Wulfman had found out anything for me. It was probably too soon to hope for something, but I felt like anything was possible after my encounter with Aine. 

To my surprise there was an email from Wulfman in the mailbox I used for the message board. I opened his message, curious about what he’d found out already. 

It looks like you were right. There were several suspicious deaths in Portland about ten years ago. Your friend was one of them. I’m still waiting to hear from all my resources. Hope to get back to you in a few hours.

I stared at the screen. In a few hours I could be closer than I’d ever been to getting answers about my dad’s murder. All these years the biggest question tormenting me was why him? He was a good person, and we had lived a very quiet life. What drew them to that neighborhood, to our little house that looked like every other house on the street? That question was a fire inside me, and it would never stop burning until it was answered. The truth would not help me get over what happened to him, but maybe it could bring me some kind of closure. 

Grabbing the muffin, I nibbled it as I paced the room, my eyes going to the laptop with every turn on the floor. The cat lay across the back of the couch watching me as I walked back and forth, his head following me around the room. I tossed him a small piece of muffin and he watched it bounce off the couch in front of him, but he made no move to catch it before it fell to the floor. 

“Two days ago you would have been glad to get that,” I scolded softly as I bent to pick up the crumb. 

A tiny shuffling sound behind the attic wall caught my ear, and I smiled behind my hand. Breaking off a large piece of muffin, I unlatched the small attic door and set the food on the floor in front of it. Then I retreated to the couch to watch. It took a few minutes, but I was rewarded when the door squeaked and a tiny pale arm reached out from the shadows to snatch away the piece of muffin. I heard a gleeful snicker as the little fiend retreated with its prize. 

“You’re welcome, you ungrateful little wretch,” I called after him. 

The only response I got was a muffled burp from inside the wall. Little buggers never said thank you. 

I shook my head and finished my muffin. Some houses had mice – mine had imps. Imps were the vermin of the supe world, notorious thieves and the devil to catch. For a while I couldn’t leave anything of value lying around or it would disappear – until last fall when one of the little beasts got caught in an old mousetrap in the storeroom. I freed him and fixed him up even though he tried to bite me in the process. Remy said I was nuts, but I couldn’t stand to see a creature in pain. I guess one good turn did deserve another because nothing had gone missing since that day. Of course, the imps weren’t any friendlier, but what could you expect from six-inch tall kleptomaniac demons with sharp teeth? 

I forced myself to do homework for an hour before I finally gave in and went to my laptop to check my email. Nervous excitement twisted my stomach when I saw a message requesting a chat. I clicked okay , and Wulfman responded immediately. 

Wulfman: Have something. Not sure it’s what you want. 

PixieGirl: What is it? 

Wulfman: One of my sources lost a friend when you lost yours. Same M.O. 

PixieGirl: And he thinks it was vampires? 

Wulfman: He’s sure of it. He knows a lot. 

PixieGirl: So what now? 

Wulfman: He wants to talk to you. But it has to be in person. You up for that?

PixieGirl: You trust him? 

Wulfman: 100% 

PixieGirl: Ok but it has to be very public. 

My cell phone vibrated where it lay on the desk. The corner of my mouth lifted when I saw the text message from Roland. Fri night? 

PixieGirl: I think I know of a place. Have him ping me and we’ll talk. 

Wulfman: Will do. Let me know how it goes. 

PixieGirl: Thanks, I will. 

I leaned back in my chair. Was I insane to agree to meet a total stranger even if he might know something about my dad? I’d heard enough stories about girls disappearing after going to meet someone they met online. But then this wouldn’t be the first time I’d made contact with someone this way. It was how I met Malloy the first time, and there were several others I’d dealt with before him. I was always careful, and it wasn’t like I’d be alone with the guy. 

And it might be my only chance to learn the truth about what had happened to my dad. After all these years, there was no way I could pass up this opportunity. I was willing to take a few risks to finally get the answers I sought. 

My mind made up, I picked up my phone. I’m in.


	5. Chapter 4

By the time Delilah’s Crush began pelting out their last set, my temples were pounding and I wished I could heal myself. Roland was right – Dylan’s new band was great – but I liked my music more rock and less metal. I didn’t think Delilah’s Crush knew exactly what type of music they wanted to play, so they went somewhere in between. Roland and Peter were having a great time, cheering and moving with the rest of the crowd. My sigh was drowned out by the music. Maybe it was me; I just didn’t know how to enjoy myself like a normal teenager. 

The truth was that I was disappointed and more than a little annoyed that my reason for coming here tonight had not shown up. NightWatcher, the guy I’d talked to online this week, was supposed to be here at ten o’clock, and it was almost eleven with no sign of him. We had agreed that I would wear a silver cross in plain sight where he could see it, I guess because vampires couldn’t touch silver. My fingers went to the cross to make sure it was still hanging outside my shirt, and I almost smiled at the idea of anyone mistaking me for a vampire. It looked like that didn’t matter now since he hadn’t even bothered to show, or if he had, he was not approaching me for some reason. 

I scanned the room again, and this time my gaze fell on a dark-haired man who looked more out of place here than I felt. Leaning against a wooden column at the edge of the dance floor in dark jeans and a snug gray knit top, he looked more at home in a Calvin Klein ad than here at the Attic. It wasn’t just his clothes or the way his dark eyes swept the room lazily that drew my attention; he was just too . . . beautiful, like one of those androgynous male models. In a room full of teenagers and college students wearing T-shirts and jeans, he stood out like a beacon. 

It took me a few seconds to realize that Mr. CK’s eyes were staring into mine. The boldness of his gaze brought heat to my cheeks, and my eyes darted away from his seductive smile and the invitation I saw in his stare. I had little – okay, zero experience with the opposite sex – but I’d have to be comatose not to understand the signals coming from him. What I couldn’t understand was why he was turning his attention to me with all the attractive girls here trying to catch his eye. Not that I think I’m unattractive; I’m just not what you’d call alluring, and I’m certainly not used to hot guys giving me the “come hither” look. 

A little breathless, I shifted my attention to the stage where the drummer was revving up the crowd with an awesome solo. I moved forward and nudged between my friends, dancing along with them. Five minutes later I stole a glance at Mr. CK, and I smirked when I found him engaged in conversation with two shapely blondes who were almost comical in their attempts to out-flirt each other. 

The band finished the song and started another, and everyone on the dance floor began dancing again, except for me. After downing two bottles of water in two hours, what I really needed was to find the restroom. I tapped Roland on the arm and mouthed “restroom” to him to let him know where I was going. He nodded, and I headed for the ladies’ room where I stood in line for five minutes before I got inside. I was washing my hands when the two blond girls I’d seen with Mr. CK came in. 

“I saw him first, Shelley,” one of them said, pulling a tube of dark red lipstick from her handbag. 

“You always say that, Trish,” the other girl replied with a scowl. She started retouching her makeup. “This one is mine.” 

Trish checked her perfect hair in the mirror. “If you think I’m letting you walk off with this one, you’re nuts.” 

“Letting me?” Shelley’s voice went up a notch. 

I shook my head and left the restroom before they started brawling over the guy. There was no arguing the fact that Mr. CK was incredibly hot, but no guy is worth fighting over, especially one you just met in a bar. 

Apparently, Trish and Shelley disagreed with me. I barely made it ten feet from the restroom when I heard them coming behind me in a heated argument that drew amused looks from the people nearby. I slowed and stepped sideways to let the angry pair pass me. It’s no wonder I don’t go out much. 

I heard Shelley shout “You bitch!” a second before she gave Trish a hard shove that sent Trish stumbling backward into me. “Umph!” I grunted as one of the girl’s elbows got me in the stomach before we went down in a tangle of arms and legs. I saw stars when my head hit the hardwood floor. It didn’t help that I had cushioned the bigger girl’s fall. 

Someone pulled Trish off me, and a girl asked, “Is she alright?” I assumed she was talking about me because I was the only one still lying on the floor, a little dazed and not sure whether I was more embarrassed or pissed. 

A hand waved in front of my face, and I realized someone was bending over me. “Are you okay?” he asked in a deep voice that carried the trace of an accent I could not place. The ceiling lights behind him made it impossible to see his face, but from his voice I guessed he wasn’t more than a few years older than me. 

“Um, I think so,” I said, moving to get up. The man reached down and took my hand, and I gasped at the warmth that rippled through me. I stared at our clasped hands as he helped me to my feet, and I stood there for a moment before I realized I still held his hand. I let go and looked up at him with a sheepish smile. “Thank – ” 

He stood so close I could reach out and touch him. His face was no longer hidden in shadows, and I found myself gazing into a pair of steel gray eyes that looked at me with such intensity I almost forgot to breathe. Mutely I stared at him while my stomach twisted with a sensation I could not put into words, and I felt a touch against the back of my mind like the flutter of butterfly wings. I experienced the strangest sense of recognition, though I knew I had never seen him before, and deep inside me something stirred like a cat uncurling from a long nap. 

The man blinked and took a step back, breaking the spell that held me. Remembering to breathe again, I glanced down to steady myself then looked back to find him watching me with a slightly confused expression that probably matched my own. My eyes moved up his handsome face taking in his square jaw, firm lips, aquiline nose, and black hair that fell across his brow in careless waves with a few strands curling around his ears. His skin was lightly tanned, and the shadow of a beard played around the curves of his jaw. 

I suddenly realized we were staring at each other, and I smiled to cover my embarrassment. “Sorry, I must have banged my head harder than I thought.” 

My words did not elicit the reaction I expected. His whole body stiffened, and his eyes suddenly blazed as if I had slapped him. I took a step back, stunned by the hostility in his stare, especially after his kind assistance. “Okay… well, thanks for your help,” I mumbled and fled. 

I slipped through the crowd until I spied the door that stood open to the deck, and suddenly I was in desperate need of fresh air. What the hell was his problem? I stewed as I leaned against the rail and stared at the dark building across the street. This night just kept going downhill. First my contact didn’t show, and then I got dumped on my butt in front of a room full of people, and on top of that I acted like a total idiot. I cringed, remembering how I’d stood there like a fool staring at him. What had gotten into me, going all slack-jawed over a hot guy? God, I’m as bad as Trish and Shelley , I groaned inwardly and closed my eyes, letting the night air cool my burning cheeks. 

“I believe this is yours.” 

The voice so close behind me made me jump because I hadn’t even heard him approach. I turned to see a silver chain dangling from his fingers, and my hand went to my bare neck. I reached out gingerly without looking at his face, and he laid the necklace in my hand. “Thank you.” I ran my finger over the cross then put it in my front jeans pocket. The chain was broken, but I was glad to get it back. It had been my grandmother’s, and Nate had given it to me last year on my birthday. 

I expected the man to leave then, but he stared at me for a long moment, studying me. It felt like he was sizing me up, trying to figure me out as if I was a weird piece of art he couldn’t understand. There was nothing suggestive in his look. If anything, he looked at me with something akin to dislike. 

“Are you done?” I finally asked after I’d had enough of his rudeness. His eyes widened a little, and I got the distinct impression he wasn’t used to being rebuffed, especially by the opposite sex. 

“You’re a bit young for this place,” he said brusquely, ignoring my barb. 

I bristled at his tone. “I’m sorry but I don’t think that is any of your business.” 

“You can’t be more than seventeen or eighteen. You shouldn’t be here alone.” 

“You’re not much older than me,” I shot back. “And I’m not here alone.” 

“I’m older than I look.” His voice was cool, but his eyes burned into mine and the beast in my head stirred again. After what had happened to Scott, I clamped down tightly on it until it was silent. All I needed was for that thing to get loose again. Besides, this guy might be aggravating, but I didn’t sense any real danger from him. 

He ran a hand through his dark hair and looked out at the city. I could not help but think that he really was gorgeous. Not like Mr. CK, who was way too pretty for my taste. No one would dare call the guy in front of me pretty . There was an edge to him – serious, almost guarded. 

“Nikolas,” said a voice from the doorway. We both turned to face a blond man who gave my companion a “raised eyebrow” look, as if he wasn’t surprised to find his friend alone with a girl. “Ready to move out?” 

I wasn’t sure if Nikolas’s frown was for me or his friend. He gave me another searching look then nodded. “Be out shortly, Chris.” 

I expected him to say something else to me, but he only stood where he was for a long moment before he strode to the door. He swung toward me again before he stepped inside. “Stay with your friends. This part of town is not safe for a girl alone at night.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” 

And that wasn’t weird at all. It was definitely my week for strange encounters. 

I waited another minute then made my way back to Roland and Peter. They were still dancing where I’d left them, and Roland had made a new friend. A petite brunette girl had taken up my spot, and she was rubbing against him like a cat on a post. I was beginning to wonder if the girls in this place had never seen a good looking guy before. 

When Roland saw that I had returned he beckoned me closer, earning me a glare from the brunette, which I chose to ignore. The band had almost finished their last set, and I was ready to leave. My head was pounding even harder after my fall, and I was a little wigged out from the whole encounter with that Nikolas fellow. I wasn’t sure what bothered me more; his behavior or my reaction to him. He was gone now so it didn’t matter, but I couldn’t put it out of my mind. 

The band finished their last song to loud cheers and shouts for an encore. Peter hooted at them then turned to me and Roland. “That was sick! Did you hear Samson’s solo?” 

“It was hard not to,” I said with a laugh. My ears were ringing. 

“I told you they were good,” Roland said, nudging me with his arm. “Dylan’s gotten a lot better since the last time you heard him play.” 

“Yes, he has,” I agreed. 

Peter punched Roland’s arm. “They’re starting to pack up. Let’s go.” They both looked expectantly at me, and I waved them off. 

“Go on. I want to sit down for a bit anyway. I’ll be over there.” I pointed at pair of leather chairs being vacated by a couple of girls. Roland nodded, and he and Peter headed for the stage with the brunette in tow. I snagged one of the chairs and laid my head back with my eyes closed, trying to will my headache away. It was a little better now that the music had stopped. I listened to people milling about, content to sit there quietly until Roland and Peter came back for me. 

Someone took the chair across from me. I opened my eyes, expecting to see one of my friends, and I was more than a little surprised to find Mr. CK sitting there watching me. He was alone, and I wondered how he had managed to slip away from Trish and Shelley. 

He was maybe nineteen or twenty, and up close he was even more beautiful – if that was possible – with ridiculously thick lashes and full lips that parted in a disarming smile. I could not help but smile back. 

“Did you like the band?” he asked in a voice so silky it was almost a caress. For a moment I forgot to answer. 

“They weren’t bad. You?” 

He gave a small shrug. “They’re decent, but the next one is much better. The Furies, have you heard of them?” 

“No.” I found it a little hard to believe that he was into hard rock. The Attic and this type of music really didn’t seem to suit him. But then what did I know? 

The leather chair creaked as he leaned forward with his elbows on the armrests. His bottomless indigo eyes bored into mine. “You should stick around to see them. You won’t regret it.” 

I felt an inexplicable urge to lean forward too, to get closer to those mesmerizing eyes, but I stopped myself before I did. Wow, this guy was good. I wondered if he was aware of the effect he had on the opposite sex. I almost laughed out loud. He definitely knew. 

I gave a mental shake to clear my head. “We only came to hear our friend play,” I told him, pointing to Roland, Peter, and Dylan. We’re leaving as soon as they finish packing up.” 

He seemed puzzled for an instant, but then he gave me a small smile of resignation. “That’s too bad.” He leaned closer and spoke in a soft voice. “You’re not like the other girls here. It’s quite refreshing.” 

Not sure how to take that, I quipped, “If the girls here don’t suit your tastes, maybe you’re looking for women in the wrong place.” 

His eyes flashed in amusement, and he settled back in his chair. “I think you may be right.” 

I saw Roland waving me over. “Looks like my friends are ready to leave.” I stood, and my companion stood, too. “It was nice talking to you.” 

The corners of his mouth turned down slightly. “Are you going to run off without leaving me a name to put with your lovely face?” 

Smooth. “I don’t give my name to strange men.” 

He raised his eyebrows and gave me a beguiling smile. “Not even a first name.” 

“Sara,” I replied without thinking. I immediately wanted to kick myself. 

“Sara.” He said my name like he was tasting an exotic fruit. “I’m Eli, and it has been a pleasure. I hope to repeat it sometime.” 

I doubted the likelihood of that ever happening, but I smiled anyway. “Well, enjoy your band.” I turned toward the stage, blinking several times to shake off the feeling of lethargy that had stolen over me while I sat. I must be more tired than I thought. 

“You ready to go?” Roland asked when I reached them. I saw with some amusement that the brunette was hanging off Samson now and the blond drummer was looking around helplessly for someone to come to his rescue. 

I glanced over at Eli as we headed for the exit and saw that the seats around him had already been snatched up by some new girls who were vying for his attention. He gave me a slight nod as we passed, and I returned a polite smile. 

The Attic was on the second floor of a converted warehouse, and we had to descend a set of stairs to get to the street. Music had started playing inside the building again, and it wafted down the stairs after us. 

I yawned. “That was fun, but I’m pooped all of a sudden.” 

“You guys stay here, and I’ll go get the car.” Roland set off running to the parking garage at the far end of the street. I sat on the bottom of the staircase while Peter called someone on his cell and started raving about the band. 

I took out my own phone to call Nate and let him know we were leaving the club and I’d be home in an hour or so. Nate was pretty cool about me staying out late as long as I let him know where I was. Before I could dial, the stair above me creaked and Eli appeared beside me. I tried to hide my surprise and dismay. I hoped he didn’t think I’d been flirting with him upstairs because I hadn’t been; at least I didn’t think I had. It was not exactly my area of expertise. 

“Have your friends abandoned you?” he asked, and I felt a little tremor pass through me at his nearness. Really, what was this guy’s secret? 

“No, Peter’s right there...” My voice trailed off when I realized that Peter had wandered off. I could still hear him talking on his phone so he wasn’t that far away. 

“I thought you were leaving,” Eli said, his breath warm against my cheek. Too close for comfort. 

I shot to my feet, not caring what he thought. Okay, enough of that. “We are. My friend went to get the car, and we’re waiting for him.” I knew I was babbling, but I wanted to put some distance between me and Eli. Something didn’t feel quite right about him, and he was starting to make me nervous. I started toward Peter until I felt a hand on my arm. It wasn’t restraining me, but it still set off alarm bells in my head. Nikolas’s earlier words rang in my head. Stay with your friends. This part of town is not safe for a girl alone at night. 

“You seem to be in such a hurry to leave all of a sudden. Nothing I have done, surely?” 

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I just think I hear my ride coming.” I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. Where was Roland? 

“You are a terrible liar, you know,” Eli said softly. He moved so fast he was standing right in front of me before I knew what was happening. “But you are such an intriguing creature that I will forgive you for it.” 

My mind struggled to grasp what my eyes were seeing. How did he…? 

The truth hit me like a truck, knocking the air from my lungs and sending spikes of fear into my brain. I opened my mouth to call for help, only to find myself rendered mute by a hard hand. The street blurred, and I found myself in the alley, pressed face-first against the building and unable to move or call out. 

“Sara,” he hissed against my hair. Terror threatened to choke me as the image of my father’s mutilated body swam before my eyes. Oh God no. Please, not like this. 

I screamed into Eli’s hand and struggled wildly to twist out of his hold, but his grip was like steel bars holding me fast. He laughed softly in my ear and pressed his body against my length. “You’re a fighter. I like that.” I could hear the excitement in his voice, and his body responded to my fear. My heart threatened to explode from my chest. 

“As soon as I looked into those beautiful green eyes of yours, I knew I had to have you. Those other girls, they simper and fawn, and they would do anything I asked of them. But you… you are different. You are an orchid in a field of dandelions.” He ran his free hand along my throat, and I whimpered. “Now, you are mine, little flower, and I cannot wait to taste your sweet nectar.” 

His words sent shudders of revulsion through me. Pinned between him and the wall, his scent assailed my nostrils, and I almost gagged at the sickly odor that permeated his skin. It had been faint at first, camouflaged by expensive cologne, but the longer he held me, the stronger it grew. I found a fox once with a badly infected cut. Eli reeked of that same stench of rotting flesh and death. 

“I just have to know one thing first,” Eli whispered and spun me around to face him while keeping me silenced with his hand. In the weak light of the alley I could see him as he smiled at me almost tenderly. “How did you do it? How did you break the compulsion? No one has ever resisted my will before.” 

He started to lift his hand from my mouth, and I sucked in a deep breath to scream my head off. He tilted my head, forcing me to look into his eyes. “One thing, little flower. If you call out, I will rip your little boyfriends to shreds. You don’t want that, do you?” 

My eyes widened even more, and I shook my head frantically. 

His lips parted in a smile, and I watched in horror as two curved snake-like fangs grew from his mouth, gleaming in the pale light. In that moment I knew what a mouse felt like when it looked into the eyes of a rattlesnake. The mouse knew it was going to die, but it was too mesmerized with fear to move. 

When Eli lifted a hand to my face I tried to jerk away from the inch-long black claws where his fingernails had been. He touched my cheek lightly, and I shuddered at the feel of the cold, hard claws on my skin. 

“Now tell me how you resisted me and I promise your friends will not be harmed.” 

“I–I don’t know.” 

He sighed impatiently, and his clawed hand moved down to brush against my throat. I swallowed convulsively. “I’m not lying. Please… I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

Eli’s eyes narrowed, and he stared down into mine. “I think I believe you. Hmm, can it be that you don’t even know what you can do? It makes me wonder what other charming little talents you might be hiding.” He licked his lips and gall rose in my throat at his meaning. “What a delight you are. To think I almost settled for one of those insipid blondes.” 

He put his mouth to my ear, and his words sent waves of fresh terror through me. “I am going to savor you, little Sara. I had planned to have you now, but why rush when we can take all the time we want later.” 

“No…” 

“But I think a taste first to whet the appetite.” His face lowered as he forced my head to one side, baring my throat. His lips touched my skin, and his tongue lapped at the spot where my pulse beat. Blackness swam before my eyes. 

“What is this?” he murmured and sniffed as if he was trying a new wine. His tongue touched my skin again. “You taste like – ” His head whipped up, and his eyes glittered like he had just been served a favorite dessert. “You’re a – ” 

“Now that is no way to treat a young lady,” said a deep masculine voice from the other end of the alley. The voice was cold and menacing and the sweetest sound I had ever heard. 

Eli moved so he was backed against the wall with me dangling in front of him like a ragdoll. “You are very brave, my friend, but you will move on if you know what’s good for you.” 

“I have been told that I don’t heed orders well.” The shadows shifted, and a tall shape moved forward into the meager light. He wore the jeans and navy blue sweater I’d seen him in earlier, but over them he now wore some kind of leather harness that crisscrossed his muscled chest, holding an assortment of knives. Behind his right shoulder I could see the handle of what looked like a sword strapped to his back. I was so happy to see him that I almost sobbed his name. 

Eli stiffened and let out a hiss. “Mohiri!” Fear crept into his voice, and my dazed mind wondered what on earth scared a vampire. 

Nikolas chuckled, and I felt a tremor run through my captor. “I see there is no need for introductions. Good. I hate to waste time on formalities.” 

“Stay back or I will rip her apart.” Eli’s hand was at my throat now, the icy claws biting into my skin. I was afraid to breathe and risk being sliced open. I froze and focused on Nikolas’s face, praying he would save me from this nightmare. For a second his eyes met mine, and I saw barely controlled rage in them. I glimpsed something feral and lethal simmering below the surface. 

“A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?” Nikolas quipped, but steel laced his voice. He took a step forward, and Eli jerked in response. 

“Her death will be on your hands, Mohiri.” Eli’s claws pressed tighter against my throat, and warmth trickled down my neck. He shuddered at the scent of warm blood beneath his nose, and I could tell he was about to lose it. Nikolas would never reach us before those fangs tore my throat out. 

Nikolas’s expression never changed. His voice grew deeper, colder, and I shivered at the power radiating from him. “Do it and it will be your last act, vampire.” 

Eli quailed, but he did not loosen his grip. I could sense the struggle inside him. He was afraid, but he craved my blood. Would he stay and fight for his prize or run for his life? 

“Brother, how like you to sneak off and sample the sweets by yourself,” drawled a male voice from above. “And look at the trouble it has brought you.” 

Dread filled me as I looked up at the figure standing on the fire escape above our heads. Eli’s grip on my throat loosened, and he sighed with relief against my hair. 

“Come now, Joel. You know I always save some for you,” Eli’s voice rang with triumph, and the hope I’d felt a minute before died. What chance did we have against a pair of vampires? 

Joel laughed and leaned against the metal railing. “I think I deserve a little more than a nibble this time. Mmm… she looks like a tasty little bit.” 

Eli caressed my cheek. “This one is mine.” 

“No!” I shouted, twisting out of his hold. For a second I was free, and my eyes immediately flew to Nikolas. His body tensed to spring. 

Eli snatched me back against him just as Joel landed softy beside him. I found myself flanked by two snarling monsters, and my newfound courage floundered. 

Nikolas drew a long lethal sword and faced them with no trace of fear on his face. In that instant I knew that no matter what happened, he would not desert me. For whatever reason he had risked his own life for mine, and live or die, we were in this together. 

“You can’t take us both and save her,” taunted Eli. “She will die, and your efforts will be for naught.” 

A ghost of a smile passed over Nikolas’s face. “Then I will have to settle for killing only you.” 

If Eli reacted to that statement, I did not see it. But I thought I detected a small quiver in his voice when he said, “Bold words for one outnumbered.” 

Before Nikolas could reply, a new voice cut through the tension in the alley. “Sara?” called Roland, followed by Peter shouting, “Sara, where are you?” My heart constricted, and I had to bite my lip to keep from calling out to them. I couldn’t drag them into this and watch them die beside me. 

Eli’s head jerked a little, and Joel’s eyes darted from Nikolas to the alley entrance. 

Nikolas laughed harshly. “Do you smell that my friends? I believe the odds just changed.” 

I shot him a horrified look. Was he planning to use Roland and Peter as decoys to draw the vampires away from us? I would rather die than watch my friends get hurt because of me. 

“Come, brother. There are sweeter meals to be had,” Joel said, not taking his eyes off Nikolas. 

“No,” Eli spat. “I want this one.” 

Nikolas shifted, and his sword gleamed wickedly. “Release her or die, your choice. And you’d better make up your mind very soon.” 

“Sara, damn it where are you?” Roland sounded frantic. They were closer, almost at the mouth of the alley. 

Eli’s hold tightened convulsively, and I let out an involuntary cry. 

One of my friends shouted, but I couldn’t tell who it was. I heard a commotion in the street, followed by a growling noise that made my hair stand on end. Oh God, what is that? I didn’t want to think about what horrors Roland and Peter could be facing now, too. 

I couldn’t see the street, but I heard something big run into the alley. Eli let out a screech unlike anything I’d ever heard and lunged for the fire escape, pulling me with him like I weighed nothing. When he reached for the metal ladder, my gut twisted because I knew if he made it up the fire escape I was dead. Once he reached the roof he could easily jump to the next building, and there was no way Nikolas would catch him. I’d rather die here in this alley than be tortured at the hands of a vampire. 

Behind us, I heard snarls and the sounds of a battle as Nikolas engaged the other vampire. There was no time to wonder who was winning that fight because I was fighting for my own life. I scratched and kicked and struggled futilely to break free from the vise-like arm around my waist. Eli’s other hand snared the ladder and pulled it toward us. 

He made it almost to the first landing before he shrieked in pain and jerked backward violently. Hanging from the ladder with one hand, he lashed out with his feet at whatever was coming at him from below. He could have thrown me at his attacker to save himself, but he held on, determined to keep me while I screamed and clawed like a wild cat. The ladder groaned as the thing below tried to pull the vampire to the ground. Eli kicked at it with a force that would have killed a human, but it held on. Whatever it was, it was as strong as a vampire. The thought of something that powerful terrified and thrilled me at the same time, and I twisted my body to see what it was. 

The creature had to be almost seven feet tall, even while slightly hunched over. It stood on two legs, and it was covered in dark, bristled hair with broad shoulders and clawed hands and feet. My eyes lifted to its face, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the yellow eyes, short pointed ears, and long snarling snout that revealed the biggest teeth I’d ever seen. 

Werewolf! My mind struggled to come to grips with what my eyes were telling it. I was face-to-face with a real live werewolf. I knew vampires and werewolves were mortal enemies, but what were the chances of me ending up in the middle of a battle between the two in an alley in downtown Portland? 

The werewolf’s terrifying gaze met mine, and I saw savage intelligence in his amber eyes as his powerful jaws clamped down on Eli’s calf. As the deadly fangs tore through his flesh and bone, Eli screamed in pain, and his arm around me tightened until I gasped for air. With a bloodcurdling roar, he kicked at the werewolf with his other foot, and the force of the blow sent the wolf staggering backward. It was all Eli needed to pull us both up to the metal landing. 

He lay there panting for several seconds before he struggled to stand on his ravaged leg. Through the grate, I saw the werewolf recover and jump at the ladder again. Eli saw it, too, and pulled me toward the stairs. I looked at the distance between us and the wolf, and my heart plummeted because I knew it would never reach us in time. Werewolves were powerful creatures, but their bodies were not designed well for climbing. And once we got to the roof, Eli would have healed enough from his leg wound to carry us both away from here. 

Eli sped up the stairs. I grabbed for the rail to slow our ascent, but he was too strong. At the last landing he paused to adjust his grip on me. “Now it’s just you and me,” he said with a triumphant leer as he started up the narrow ladder to the roof. 

We were almost to the top when Eli let out a pained screech and stopped climbing. I looked down, hoping to see the werewolf latched onto Eli’s leg again, but the creature was two landings below us. Eli gasped and struggled to hold onto me and the ladder with one hand while his other hand tried to reach something behind him. My eyes followed his movements until I saw the silver hilt protruding from a smoking hole in his side. I watched him grasp the handle of the knife, then yank his hand away, screaming as the pure silver scorched his skin. 

The fire escape shook below us as the werewolf drew closer. Please hurry, I begged him silently, and I could have sworn he looked right into my eyes and sped up. 

Eli saw him coming and abandoned his attempts to remove the knife. He reached for the roof two feet away. I did the only thing I could think of to stop him. I stretched out my hand and grasped the hilt of the knife. Pulling it free, I twisted and swung at the vampire. I didn’t aim. I just tried to make contact, anything to slow him down, and I felt a bolt of satisfaction when the knife sank into the soft flesh of his shoulder. 

His scream of rage and pain was like a thousand nails on a chalkboard. He shook me violently, and I dangled away from the fire escape, three stories above the ground. Far below, I saw Nikolas’s furious face as he reached for another knife. At his feet lay the decapitated body of the other vampire. 

Nikolas drew back his hand to throw the knife, but he stopped when he saw me hanging above the ground. He was afraid Eli would drop me if he wounded him again. 

“Do it!” I screamed. I didn’t want to die, but I would rather fall to my death now than let this monster carry me away to rape and torture me. My voice turned pleading. “Nikolas… please.” 

His arm moved so fast I barely realized the knife had left his hand before it whistled past me to embed itself in Eli’s other shoulder. The vampire moaned in pain and scrabbled to maintain his grip on the ladder. He looked up at the roof, then stared fearfully down at the werewolf who was now at the bottom of the ladder directly below us. He was out of time. 

The fury and hunger in his eyes when he glared at me sucked the air from my lungs. “I will have you,” he rasped right before he let me go. 

Time seemed to stand still. In one suspended moment I was dimly aware of the werewolf’s roar, of shouts below me, and the smoking dagger in my hand before time sped up again.


	6. Chapter 5

“Sara! Sara, can you hear me?” 

“Is she – ?” 

“She’s breathing.” 

“Christ! Did you see what he did?” 

“I-I couldn’t reach her, Pete.” 

“Forget that now. Let’s get her out of here.” 

Strong arms picked me up and cradled me against a warm chest. I opened my eyes to see a familiar face above me. 

“Roland?” 

“She’s awake,” Roland said hoarsely, and I heard Peter whisper, “Thank God.” 

Roland sat me on a bench at the bus stop near the building and knelt in front of me. Peter sat next to me, and I let myself lean against him. The world was coming back into focus and along with it, my memory. I pulled my knees up against my chest as my whole body shook, and I began to sob uncontrollably. I hadn’t cried in front of another person in years, but it now felt like a long-sealed dam had burst open. 

Roland rose and sat on my other side. He put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his warmth. “You’re safe now.” 

I let him comfort me for a minute before I pulled away from him. My dad used to hug me all the time, but since his death I shied away from most physical contact. It provided comfort, but it also gave you a false sense of security. I used to feel safe when my dad held me, like nothing could ever hurt either of us. Letting someone get that close to you only opens you up to more pain when they’re gone. 

“No one is safe,” I croaked between hiccups. I was such a fool. I knew what was out there. I knew there had been vampire sightings in Portland, and still I came and nearly got all of us killed. I shuddered and buried my face in my hands, wondering if I’d ever feel safe again. 

“Shit, Sara, I’m so sorry,” Roland moaned. “If I had any idea something like that would happen, I never would have brought you here.” 

“It’s my fault.” Peter’s voice was full of regret. “If I had stayed with her…” 

Roland glared at Peter. “I was gone for five minutes. What the hell happened, dude?” 

“It–it’s not his fault.” What could a teenage boy have done against a vampire? Then I remembered Nikolas fearlessly facing down two vampires, armed with nothing more than a sword and a bunch of knives. 

“Where is Nikolas?” At Roland’s confused look I said, “In–in the alley. He saved my life.” 

“I’d say. He ran over and fucking caught you!” Peter exclaimed. “You fell thirty feet, and the guy caught you.” 

“I remember falling, but that’s it.” How was it possible to catch a person falling from that height? How was I still alive after that? 

“Probably better if you don’t remember.” Roland’s eyes took on a haunted look. “Seeing you fall like that… I never want to feel like that again.” 

“So he caught me and left?” I could not keep the tremble from my voice. He’d saved me from a fate worse than death then just… disappeared? 

“Yeah, he went after the um…” 

“Vampire. You can say it, Peter.” 

Roland and Peter exchanged looks, and Roland’s tone gentled like he was speaking to a child. “You’ve been through a lot and you’re in shock right now. We should talk about this later.” 

“I know about vampires, Roland,” I said wearily. I heard Peter’s sharp intake of breath as Roland’s mouth fell open. Another time I might have found their reactions comical. “Of course, I know more about them now than I ever wanted to.” 

“How do you – ?” Roland broke off as a group of people left the club and came down the stairs. It felt surreal to see people laughing and carrying on after what I’d just experienced, and I had to force down another wave of tears. 

Roland jumped to his feet. “We should leave. We can talk in the car.” 

“Okay.” I stood with him, but I pulled back when I remembered vampires hadn’t been the only creatures in the alley. “Wait! What happened to the werewolves?” 

He paled and looked around nervously. “Werewolves?” 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t see them. Or hear them.” My mind was still a bit fuzzy, but I’d never forget those yellow eyes or that massive jaw. “I only saw one, but I think there were more. For a minute there I was sure they got you. How could you not have seen them?” 

“It was pretty crazy in there. I’m not sure what I saw,” Peter replied slowly, and right away I knew he was hiding something because his face grew flushed. He never could lie worth a damn. 

“Oh come on. You were – ” 

“I really think we should get out of here,” Roland cut in, and I heard the urgency in his voice. “Vampires normally travel in groups. There could be more of them around here.” 

I pulled back. “Wait, how do you know that? How do you know about vampires at all?” 

“We’ll explain later, but right now we have to get out of here in case there are more.” Roland tugged on my arm. 

The thought of encountering another Eli sent a tremor through me, and I almost ran to his mother’s blue Toyota Camry parked across the street. Roland waited until I had buckled myself into the front passenger seat before he went around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel. Through the windshield, I saw Peter pull out his cell phone and make a call. Peter’s worried eyes met mine as he spoke into his phone, and I wondered who he was talking to at this hour. 

Peter hung up and climbed into the back seat. He looked troubled when he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the backs of our seats. “Dad said we need to bring Sara there before we take her home. He’s pretty pissed at us.” 

“Take me where?” I asked apprehensively. “Why does your father want to see me?” 

Peter and Roland shared a look before Peter answered. “To the farm. Dad will explain it all to you when we get there.” 

“Why don’t you guys explain it to me now?” I unbuckled my seat belt and turned in my seat to face them. Neither of them could look me in the eye, and that made me nervous. “Roland, what is going on?” I demanded. 

Roland gave me a pleading look. “Please, Sara, let’s just get out of here. I promise we’ll tell you everything.” 

“I don’t understand. What do you mean…?” The question died on my lips when something brushed softly against my mind just as my eyes fell on the dark figure striding down the empty street toward us, light glinting off the knives strapped to his chest. I remembered how he had walked out of the dark and faced down the vampire without a trace of fear, and a shiver went through me. I wasn’t sure if it was pleasure at seeing my savior or fear; maybe a bit of both. 

“Stay here,” Roland ordered before he and Peter jumped out of the car to intercept Nikolas. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I muttered, already reaching for the door handle. After what I’d been through, I had no intention of staying put. And something told me that Nikolas had not come back to see my friends. 

“… hunter doing around here?” Roland was saying to Nikolas as I approached them. “This is not Mohiri territory.” 

Hunter? Mohiri? Eli had used the word Mohiri , too. There was obviously a whole lot more going on here than I knew about. 

Nikolas looked past my friends at me. “Hello again. You seem to have recovered quickly from your adventure.” He wore a wry smile, but I thought I heard admiration in his voice. 

He waved a hand at Roland and Peter. “So, these are the friends you spoke of earlier,” he said with less warmth. “It’s no wonder you were attacked, with nothing but a pair of pups to protect you.” 

Peter scowled. “Hey!” 

I pushed between my friends to face Nikolas. Saving my life did not give him the right to talk to my friends that way. “It’s not their fault. How could they have known something like this would happen?” 

Nikolas’s brows rose. “How indeed?” 

“What do you mean? What’s going on here?” I’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice the thinly veiled animosity between my friends and Nikolas. When no one answered, I turned to Roland. “Roland? Do you know this guy?” 

Behind me Nikolas made a sound that told me he did not like being referred to as “this guy.” I ignored him and glared at Roland until he shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before.” 

“But you know something about him? What does Mohiri mean?” 

“I am Mohiri,” Nikolas said. All traces of mockery were gone from his expression. 

I faced him again. “And you hunt vampires.” That much was kind of obvious when you figured in his attire and the headless vampire in the alley, but I wanted to hear him say it. 

“Among other things.” He had the same expression he had worn on the deck, like he was trying to figure me out . God, was it really only an hour ago? 

“What about your friend from the club? Is he a hunter, too? Why didn’t he help you?” 

“Chris scouted the area for more hostiles while I handled the situation here.” 

The situation. That’s what he called battling two bloodthirsty vampires in a dark alley? I shook my head. “So what happened? Did you get the short straw or something?” 

“Or something,” he drawled as his gaze burned into mine. Warmth curled in my stomach, and I dropped my eyes in confusion. 

“What about the other vampire? Did you get him?” Peter asked. 

“Chris is tracking him.” 

“He got away?” Roland’s voice echoed my alarm. Eli had vowed to have me. Was he going to come after me again? 

“He’s injured, so he won’t get too far. Don’t worry. He won’t stick around here now that he’s being hunted.” 

“We should put some distance between us and this place all the same,” Roland said, and I silently agreed with him. 

“You live in Portland?” Nikolas asked, and we shook our heads. “Good. The farther you get from the city the better. It’s not safe here right now.” 

“No shit.” Roland took my arm. “We need to get out of here.” 

We made it ten feet before it hit me. I haven’t even thanked him. I spun back to face Nikolas and found him watching me with that same impassive expression. “Thank you… for what you did. If you hadn’t come when you did…” My voice cracked. After the night I’d had, the last thing I needed was to start blubbering in front of a complete stranger. 

Nikolas’s expression softened for a moment, and I saw a flicker of something raw and turbulent in his eyes. It pulled at me like it was an invisible cord attached to my chest, and I almost started walking toward him. But in the next moment, it was gone and I was left wondering if I had imagined it. 

“Just doing my job.” 

“Oh…okay, well thanks anyway.” His clipped words stung after what we’d just been through. It was the second time tonight he had suddenly gone cold toward me for no apparent reason. It shouldn’t have bothered me because it wasn’t like I’d ever see him again. But for some reason it did. 

I didn’t look back this time as I walked to the car. I got into the front seat again and laid my head wearily against the headrest while I waited for Roland to get in and start the engine. When I felt the car move I looked up, but the street was empty. 

“Oh God, I need to call Nate.” Eli had shown up before I could call Nate. “What am I going to tell him?” 

“Well, I don’t think you want to tell him the truth,” Roland said, and I shook my head. He thought for a minute. “Just tell him we’re going to hang at my house for a while. It’s what we would have done anyway.” 

Nate, not surprisingly, was still up working on his book. I told him I was going to Roland’s, and he just said not to stay out too late. It weighed on me after I hung up how easily the lie had flowed from my lips. Nate was good to me, and all I ever did was deceive him. But I honestly could not see any way to tell him the truth. 

No one spoke as Roland drove us through downtown Portland. We passed a few bars with people lined up to get in as taxis of more people arrived for a night of partying. It was Friday night and the night life was in full swing. At one stoplight I watched a group of laughing young women crossing in front of us, and I couldn’t help but think how that had been me a few hours ago. Was there another Eli watching them right now, selecting one to meet the fate that could have been mine tonight? 

God, I’m nothing more than a statistic now. I read stories online all the time about vampire sightings and people disappearing. I’d always felt bad for the unsuspecting victims who had no idea what was out there. Until tonight, I believed I was smarter than them, more prepared because of what I knew. It was scary and humbling to know that I was just as vulnerable as everyone else. 

As soon as we hit the interstate I heard Roland let out a sigh of relief. None of us were sorry to put Portland behind us. Roland fiddled with the radio until he found a classic rock station, and an Eagles song filled the car. We all relaxed a little after that, but none of us seemed inclined to speak. I knew they were keeping something from me, but my brain was too tired to process anything else right now. 

A little more than an hour later, Roland took the exit ramp to New Hastings, but instead of heading into town, he drove toward the rolling farmland on the outskirts called the Knolls. He and Peter lived in the Knolls, and when we were kids I used to come out here all the time. I couldn’t count the hours I’d spent on their Uncle Brendan’s farm. As we passed the sign for the Knolls, it hit me that I hadn’t been out here in almost a year. Had it really been that long? Up until two years ago, not a weekend passed when I wasn’t with Roland and Peter. It was around that time that they began doing some “male bonding” thing with their cousins, going off on their outdoor excursions. I was hurt at first that they excluded me from their fun, until I started spending more time with Remy. Eventually, I stopped coming out here at all. 

It was funny, now that I remembered it, that Roland had agreed to spend so much time with his cousins, especially Francis who was four years older than us. Roland and Francis had never gotten along, and as far as I knew, they still didn’t. Francis didn’t like me, and he never hid his feelings, which angered Roland. In fact, they’d had a huge fight – and I mean a bloody brawl – right before they started to hang out. We were at the farm when Francis came by and asked if I had a home to go to instead of always being underfoot. I would have told him where to go if Roland hadn’t punched him first. Next thing I knew, the two of them were tearing through Brendan’s cornfield, making a God-awful racket like two wild dogs trying to kill each other. Then Peter’s father, Maxwell, showed up and roared at them until they’d slunk out of the damaged corn like scolded puppies. 

My mouth fell open. No! 

Do you smell that, my friends? 

It’s no wonder you were attacked with nothing but a pair of pups to protect you. 

A large furry body jumping to catch me… 

“It can’t be.” My hand clutched the seat belt that suddenly threatened to choke me. 

Roland glanced at me. “Sara?” 

I would know, right? All the days, the hundreds – no thousands – of hours together, I would have seen some sign. It wasn’t like I was ignorant of the real world. Sure I’d never seen a werewolf in person until tonight, but a person would never be able to hide the obvious drawbacks of lycanthropy from people close to them. That was why most werewolves were reclusive. Like vampires, they couldn’t touch silver, and it would be pretty hard to explain how you got second-degree burns from a silver fork. And werewolves were predators, they had to hunt. They couldn’t live among humans unless they transformed and hunted live animals at least once a month… 

My hand flew up to cover my mouth. “Stop the car.” 

“What’s wrong?” Roland asked in alarm. 

“Stop the car!” 

Peter leaned forward. “Dude, I think she’s going to hurl. Pull over.” 

Roland let off the gas and eased the car over onto the shoulder in front of a dark field. As soon as the car stopped moving, I opened the door and ran to the fence where I bent over, trying to suck air into my lungs. Behind me, car doors opened and leaves crunched as my friends came after me. 

My best friends, the werewolves. 

Roland spoke hesitantly. “Are you okay?” 

The worry in his voice penetrated the ache in my chest. I took a deep breath, but I couldn’t face them. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Tell you what?” 

“I was in shock back there, but my head is clear now.” I gripped the top fence rail, and the rough wood dug into my palms. It was solid, more real than anything else tonight, and I clung to it. The desperate words I had heard as I woke up came back to me. I couldn’t reach her. “It was you on the fire escape, wasn’t it, Roland?” 

Silence. 

“Sara, I—” Roland began weakly. 

“Shit,” Peter muttered. 

A breeze soughed through the trees and ruffled my hair. Close by, a small animal rooted through the underbrush. It was so dark and quiet here, and so calm compared to the city. I took a deep, tremulous breath of the country air as I tried to think of what to say. 

“Please don’t be afraid,” Roland said in a rush. “We would never hurt you.” 

I turned to face them. “I know that. I’m not afraid of you. I’m upset because I had to wait for a vampire to attack me to find out the truth. And even then you tried to cover it up.” 

I felt like a hypocrite as soon as the accusation spilled from my lips. I was yelling at my friends for keeping a secret from me when that’s exactly what I had been doing as long as I’d known them. My not-so-righteous indignation drained out of me, and I sagged against the fence, cold and tired. 

Roland slowly walked toward me. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice heavy with regret. “We had to hide it from you. We were bound by our laws.” 

“And when my dad lays down a law, no one disobeys,” Peter added earnestly. “We wanted to tell you, but humans are not allowed to know about us.” 

“Your father?” 

Peter grimaced. “He’s the pack leader.” 

Of course. Who else but Peter’s imposing father, Maxwell, would be alpha? “So both of your families, all your cousins, you’re all werewolves?” 

“Yes,” Peter replied. 

My breath came out in a whoosh. 

“I know you’re upset, but please hear us out before you hate us,” Roland implored. 

“I could never hate you guys.” My voice cracked. “It’s just a lot to take in after…” 

Roland reached for me, but I put up a hand to keep him from trying to hug me again. Instead, I took his warm hand in mine to let him know my feelings for him hadn’t changed. He was still the same Roland I’d always know. Nothing would change that. 

“Guys, my dad is waiting for us, and I bet he’s not alone. We should probably go.” 

“Pete’s right.” Roland squeezed my hand. “You up for this?” 

I nodded, and we walked back to the car. The mood during the rest of the drive was subdued. Roland and Peter kept shifting restlessly like they wanted to talk but couldn’t. I had a ton of questions for them, but it looked like I wasn’t going to get any answers until we saw Maxwell. 

For the first time in my life, I was nervous about visiting the farm, and I felt a stab of apprehension as we turned onto a narrow lane and I saw the large white farmhouse looming ahead. Every window was lit up, and I saw Maxwell’s Jeep parked next to Brendan’s big Chevy pickup. 

I rubbed my forehead as Roland pulled up behind the pickup and shut off the engine. He reached across the console to lay a hand on my arm. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s just been a long night. Guess we should get this over with.” 

Peter leaned forward. “It’s not that bad… depending on how you look at it. I mean, you just faced a couple of vampires. Can’t be as bad as that, right?” 

“Pete, you’re not helping,” Roland said sharply. 

A shadow appeared in one of the windows, and I knew they were waiting for us to come in. I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. Peter was right. I’d just survived a vampire attack. A pack of werewolves should be a piece of cake. I followed Peter as he opened the front door and entered the house. The first person I saw in the archway to the living room was Maxwell. Tall and sinewy with a hardened face, graying reddish brown hair and beard, he watched us with a shuttered expression as we filed inside. As many years as I’d known Maxwell, I had never gotten used to his austere ways. Not that he had ever been mean to me. But he was the only person I’d ever met who could intimidate the heck out of me. Of course, knowing that he was the alpha of a werewolf pack put things in a bit more perspective. It took a tough person to fill that role. Standing next to Maxwell was his younger brother, Brendan. The two men were matched in height and had similar features, but Brendan was stockier with receding hair and a rounder face that gave him a less severe appearance than his brother. The serious, contemplative look he gave us made me nervous, and I almost turned and ran back out the door. I didn’t know if I could cope with another confrontation tonight. Maxwell opened his mouth to speak, but a woman’s voice cut him off. Roland’s mother, Judith, was tall and slender but still inches shorter than her son. They had the same dark brown hair and blue eyes, though at forty-five Judith’s hair was speckled with gray. I’d never met Roland’s father because he died when Roland was a baby, but I always figured my friend had inherited his father’s size. He sure as hell didn’t get it from his mother. “Not now, Max,” Judith said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Give the girl a few minutes.” She took my arm and led me to the stairs, calling over her shoulder, “Roland, go put the kettle on.” I wasn’t used to having someone coddle and fuss over me, but it felt kind of nice to let Judith take charge. She bustled me up the stairs to the bathroom and told me to shower while she went to get me some fresh clothes. After Judith closed the door behind her, I looked at myself in the mirror and gasped at the disheveled girl staring back with tangled hair, tearstained cheeks, and a dirty ripped shirt that was spotted with dried blood. It was like looking at a stranger. I tilted my head to the side to see the four small claw marks on the left side of my throat. My fingers went to touch the marks, and a shudder passed through me as I remembered Eli’s hands on me. My stomach turned over suddenly, and I retched violently in the toilet as hot tears streamed down my face. I would have curled up in a ball right there on the floor if Judith hadn’t knocked softly on the door and roused me. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” “Yes,” I called weakly. I flushed the toilet and grabbed some tissue to blow my nose. “I’m just getting in the shower.” I tore off my dirty clothes and left them in a pile on the floor, then slipped under a blissfully hot stream of water. I stood there for a good five minutes letting the water cascade over me, soothing my aches and pains. It did little for the hurt inside me, but that would need some time. The water washed away a few more tears before I finally turned it off and stepped out. A clean pair of jeans and a soft red sweater had been left on the vanity along with a steaming cup of tea that smelled like chamomile and peppermint. I sipped the tea gratefully while I dried myself and got dressed. Brendan’s daughter Lydia was away at college, and I knew these must be some of her things because I had to roll up the legs and sleeves. I towel dried my hair and combed out the tangles before I headed downstairs with the empty cup in my hand. At the bottom of the stairs, I heard Maxwell’s raised voice coming from the kitchen. “… can’t believe you took her to a club in Portland with everything going on,” he said harshly. “And how could you be so careless? Where was your training?” “But you said yourself this week that they had moved on,” Roland protested. “And we’ve been to the Attic loads of times. No one’s ever messed with us,” Peter chimed in. “We figured – ” “Of course no one messed with you!” Maxwell sounded even angrier if that was possible. “So you two idiots not only endangered Sara, you exposed us to a human.” “But Dad she – ” “I won’t tell anyone about you.” All conversation stopped when I walked into the kitchen. Judith sat at the table with Maxwell and Brendan, and Roland leaned against the refrigerator. Peter stood by the back door looking liked he wanted a quick escape from his father’s wrath. I walked over to the sink, rinsed out the cup, and laid it in the dish rack. Then I steeled myself and turned to face the room, aware that every pair of eyes was watching me. Judith pushed out the chair next to her. “Sara, why don’t you sit and we’ll talk. You must be pretty confused right now.” “I’d rather stand if that’s okay.” I was amazed at how steady my voice sounded. Maxwell cleared his throat, but Judith laid a hand on his arm. She nodded at me and gave me an understanding smile. “We know you’ve been through a lot tonight, so take all the time you need.” I didn’t need time. I needed answers. Surprisingly, the first question on my lips was not the one I’d intended to ask. “Why did you let us become friends? Weren’t you afraid that I’d find out what you were, spending so much time here?” It was Maxwell who answered. “There were some in the pack who thought it a bad idea, but if we are to live among humans, we can’t shut ourselves off from people. And we have ways of concealing what we are.” Apparently. Until tonight, I hadn’t the slightest clue that my friends were anything but human. I wondered about the people who’d been against my friendship with Roland and Peter, and I could name at least one of them. Francis had never hidden his dislike for me. Now I knew why. “I know you guys go hunting once a month, but Roland and Peter have only been doing that for a few years. Why didn’t they go when they were younger?” Maxwell’s eyebrows shot up, and he sent a scorching look at Roland and Peter. Peter raised his hands in defense. “We didn’t tell her anything, I swear.” “It wasn’t them. I know werewolves have to hunt or… bad things can happen.” I glanced around at the faces showing various degrees of surprise. “See, I told you. She knows things,” Peter piped in. “How do you know this?” Maxwell asked. “I – ” How much could I tell them without giving away secrets I was not ready to share? I thought about what I was going to say before I continued. “I’ve seen things, and I talk to people online.” At Maxwell’s look of disapproval, I said, “It’s mostly message boards, but I do chat with some people. I’ve been doing it for a long time. I’m not sure if you guys know this, but there are a lot of people – humans – who know about the real world. We just don’t go around telling everyone about it. Who would believe us, right?” Maxwell’s scowl softened. “You said you’ve seen things. What kind of things?” Oh, you know, vampires, trolls, elementals. “Um… imps.” “Imps?” Judith repeated. Her startled expression was so funny that I almost laughed for the first time since the attack. “Our building is infested with them.” Roland wrinkled his nose. “Ugh! You know there’s a remedy for that. Pete and me can take care of them for you.” I shook my head. “I know they’re a bit of a nuisance and no one likes them, but they’re not so bad once you get used to them. They love blueberry muffins, so I leave them a few treats every now and then and they leave my stuff alone. They’re great at catching rats, too.” Brendan coughed into his hand. Peter’s brows drew together. “I’ve never heard of imps infesting a human home. Is that normal, Uncle Brendan?” Brendan shook his head. “No, but then how many human homes have you checked for imps? Guess it had to happen eventually with towns and cities growing and all.” Maxwell looked pensive. “You say you’ve known about our world for a long time. How long, exactly?” My fingers gripped the edge of the counter behind my back. The only person I’d ever told this to was Remy, but there was something about my fierce friend that made it easy to tell him my troubles. Telling people who were like family to me was a different matter. “I’ve known ever since my dad was killed and I saw… what they did to him.” I swallowed hard. “No human could have done that, no matter what the police said. It took me a few years to figure it out.” “Vampire,” Peter said, and the word hung in the air between us. Roland straightened. “Jesus, Sara. I had no idea.” “No one did.” I toyed with the hem of my borrowed sweater. “It’s not like I could tell Nate or the police. Who would believe it?” Maxwell rubbed his fingers through his beard. “We suspected. We have friends on the Portland PD, so we knew there were several suspicious deaths around that time. You were so young. I had no idea you saw it or that you knew the truth.” A chair scraped the floor, and I found myself in Judith’s warm embrace. “You brave girl. I can’t believe you had to deal with this alone all these years.” I hadn’t been hugged so much since before my father died. I wanted to pull away, but that seemed rude somehow so I let her hold me. She stepped back and cleared her throat. “I think I need some tea. Anyone else?” I moved aside so she could fill the kettle. “Is it true that werewolves hunt vampires?” I asked Maxwell, who nodded. “I can’t believe I never caught on to what you are.” All the days I’d spent out here, all the sleepovers with Peter and Roland and dinners with the family, and I had never seen a single clue that they were different in any way. I certainly never would have pegged them as vampire hunters. Maxwell smiled for the first time. “We’re very good at keeping our secrets. I’d be very put out if we couldn’t hide them from one little girl.” Roland snorted, and his uncle shot him a dark look. “You won’t find it as funny when you’re running drills for the next month.” Roland’s face fell, and I almost laughed at his pitiful expression. To save him from Maxwell’s glare, I said, “So, is that how you know that guy, Nikolas? What’s his story anyway?” “The Mohiri are a warrior race of vampire hunters who have been around probably as long as there have been vampires. They are very secretive, and they hardly ever communicate with other hunters, though our people cross paths with them sometimes. We don’t care for them and they don’t like us, but we’re on the same side so they leave us alone.” “Why don’t you like each other?” Brendan had been quiet since I came downstairs, but he spoke up now. “The Mohiri don’t only hunt vampires. They hunt anything that is a threat to humans. A long time ago, our kind was not as… civilized as we are now, so they were hunted, too. We changed over time, but every now and then there is an incident. The Mohiri don’t trust us, and there are still some hard feelings among werewolves for them.” The kettle began to whistle, and Judith lifted it from the burner and poured hot water over teabags in two mugs. The scent of jasmine wafted toward me as she slid one of the mugs across the counter to me then carried her own cup to the table. I let mine steep for a minute before taking a sip. I loved Judith’s teas; she grew and dried the plants herself and stuffed the dried leaves in little mesh bags she bought at an Asian market in Portland. She always seemed to know the best tea for a situation. “You didn’t answer my question about why Roland and Peter didn’t start hunting until a few years ago,” I reminded Maxwell. “We don’t get the urge to hunt until sometime after puberty starts,” he explained. “It’s different for everyone.” “Yeah, and we also have to train… a lot,” Peter added. I looked at my friends, still finding it hard to believe they could become the terrifying creatures I saw tonight. “Have you ever hunted vampires?” Roland shook his head. “Not until we’re eighteen.” A satisfied gleam entered his eyes. “Not many of us get to tangle with one before our first vampire hunt.” Maxwell shot him a withering look. “It’s nothing for you to crow over. If that Mohiri hadn’t been there, we might be having a different conversation right now.” The kitchen grew quiet as the weight of Maxwell’s words hit us. If Nikolas had not shown up when he did, Eli would have taken me away before Roland and Peter knew I was in any danger. No one would ever have known what had happened to me, just like those other missing girls. And Eli had left no doubt about the horrors he planned for me in the last hours of my life. Pain and guilt crossed my friends’ faces. I couldn’t tell them the things Eli had promised to do to me or how close I had come to never seeing them again. They already blamed themselves; I would not add to it. And if there was one thing I was good at, it was keeping secrets. “Sara, you seem to be handling this well, all things considered,” Judith observed. I blew on my tea. “You didn’t see me two hours ago.” Maxwell turned to Brendan. “We’ll have to call a meeting in the morning. It looks like we’re not done in Portland after all.” Brendan nodded grimly. “Wish we knew what’s keeping the suckers there. They’re brazen bastards to go after a girl with two pack members and a couple of hunters nearby.” I thought about Eli’s determination to have me. Could he really have become obsessed just because I rejected his advances and I could not be compelled? That raised another question – why couldn’t he compel me? Did it have something to do with my power? Maybe there wasn’t enough room in my head for the vampire with the beast already lurking there. “Whatever their reason, I won’t tolerate them in my territory any longer. We’ll add more patrols here around town and send a team to go over every inch of the city. They’ll leave or die.” Maxwell’s voice rumbled with authority unlike anything I’d ever heard from him, and I shivered in spite of the cup of hot tea in my hands. I stole a glance at him, expecting to see glowing amber eyes, but his face was unchanged. “I think this discussion can wait until tomorrow,” Judith said firmly, obviously not in the least intimidated by her alpha brother. “Sara, why don’t you stay at our place tonight? You still look too shaken up to face Nate.” I almost said no to her offer because all I wanted was my own room and my own bed. But she was right about me not being ready to see Nate. One look at him and I’d probably dissolve in tears, and there would be no hiding it from him then. I looked over at Roland, who nodded, his eyes hopeful. I could tell he was afraid tonight had changed how I felt about them and I wanted to reassure him that nothing would ever come between us. “I’d like that, thanks,” I told Judith. Roland smiled. Judith stood and went to rinse her cup. She took mine and washed it, too. “Alright, I think it’s time we head home and let you get some sleep. You must be exhausted.” “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” I knew that as soon as I closed my eyes I’d see Eli’s face. “Then we’ll keep each other company,” Roland said, following us. Peter caught up to us. “Me, too.” Judith turned around to confront them. “This is not a slumber party. Sara’s been through a lot, and she doesn’t need you two keeping her up all night, no matter what she says.” “You boys can stay here tonight if you want,” Brendan offered, and Roland’s smile faltered. It wasn’t hard to read his emotions because I was sure the three of us felt the same thing. After going through such an ordeal together, none of us wanted to be separated from each other right now. “I’d feel better if they came with us,” I said, unable to keep the slight quiver out of my voice. Judith gave me a concerned look, and I hoped she wasn’t going to hug me again because I was afraid I might get weepy this time. I’d cried enough tonight. Judith smiled in understanding, and I thought for the thousandth time how lucky Roland was to have her for a mom. “Okay. Roland, you can drive.” Roland reached out and squeezed my hand as we headed for the door. “ Later ,” he mouthed to me, tilting his head toward his mother. I gave him a small nod back. When we used to have sleepovers, he’d wait until his mother went to bed then come get me. All we did was hang out in his room and watch movies or talk until one of us started to fall asleep, but it was always the best part of my stay. I suddenly longed for those days when the monsters were still faceless things I’d only heard about. Thanks to Eli, I’d probably never feel safe again, and I fervently hoped that Nikolas and his friend had tracked the vampire down and sent him straight to hell where he belonged.


	7. Chapter 6

“REMY, PLEASE STOP glaring at me like that. You’re scarier than the vampires when you make that face.” 

“This not funny,” he scolded, pacing the mouth of the small cave we had claimed as ours years ago. His tone was angry, but I could see the worry in his eyes. “You almost die. Why you not tell me you going to city?” 

I turned away from him to stare at the waves crashing against the rocks below. We both knew why I hadn’t told him. He would have fussed and made me promise not to go and it’s hard to say no to a troll when he sets his mind to something. 

Trolls don’t fear vampires or much else for that matter, but Remy worried about me a lot. I had some amazing supe friends and the power to heal things, but I was still just a human. I had never felt more mortal than when I thought I was going to die in that alley. 

I’d been tempted to not tell Remy what happened because I knew exactly how he would react. I forgot that my troll friend had the nose of a bloodhound. He’d smelled the vampire on me as soon as he got within a few feet of me. The knowledge that after three days, I still carried any scent of that monster made me want to jump into the ocean and scrub it away. 

But the ocean couldn’t clean the images from my mind or the memory of those cold claws pressed against my throat. I saw them whenever I closed my eyes, and at least once a night I woke in a cold sweat, still seeing Eli’s snarling face and hearing his parting words, I will have you! 

Other times I dreamed of falling, only to be caught by a dark-haired man with granite eyes. He never smiled and his eyes were cold, but I felt safe in his arms. I woke from those dreams feeling oddly bereft, but they were infinitely better than the nightmares. 

The hardest part was hiding everything from Nate. I stayed upstairs most of the weekend, coming down to eat and do my usual housework chores. I felt Nate’s questioning stares when we ate together, but thankfully he didn’t bring it up. Roland texted me a few times to see if I wanted to do something, but I just wanted to hide in my room and lick my wounds. The animals seemed to sense my distress and made it their mission to keep me company. The cat, who I’d named Oscar, took every opportunity to snuggle up next to me, purring like a little motor boat. Daisy left Nate alone and spent the weekend sleeping at the foot of my bed. Even the imps were oddly subdued. Usually I could hear them shuffling behind the walls, but for the last two days they had been quiet except for an occasional chirrup. 

After so much time alone with my thoughts, I had looked forward to getting back to school today, but I found it almost impossible to focus on classes. School seemed trivial compared to what I’d been through, and I didn’t feel like the same person who had walked out of school on Friday. How do you go back to everyday life after experiencing something so life-altering? 

“You know city not safe. Best to stay here with uncle.” 

Remy hated the idea of me leaving New Hastings, but someday I’d have to if I ever wanted to go to college or see the world. Or find out the truth about my father. 

“I had to go. If there’s a chance of learning more about my dad, I have to take it.” I still didn’t know why NightWatcher hadn’t shown up at the Attic, and he hadn’t been online since then either. Wulfman said it didn’t sound like his friend and he’d see what he could find out. I did tell Wulfman that two vampires had been seen at the Attic so he could warn others, but I asked him not to quote me as his source. His post had shown up last night and caused quite the stir. PixieGirl was not mentioned. 

“Knowledge not bring father back. It not make you less sad.” 

I picked up a pebble and tossed it into the waves. “I need to know, Remy. He was everything to me.” I looked up at him. “What would you do if it had been your mother or father?” 

Remy came over to sit beside me, his longer legs dangling beside mine. “I not lose anyone yet so I not know how you feel,” he admitted. “It different with us. Humans alone, but trolls always stay together. If one killed, all trolls rise up and find killer. Protect our own.” 

The thought of a horde of angry trolls made me quail inside. There is a good reason why everyone fears trolls. It all started about five hundred years ago. Trolls and vampires hated each other because trolls mined silver and silver can kill vampires. One day, a vampire hunting party came upon four troll children unprotected in the woods and they slaughtered all but one, who escaped. The trolls went on a bloody rampage and literally destroyed every vampire within two hundred miles. Since then, no vampire will mess with a troll. 

“Promise you not go back to city,” he implored. 

I watched a gull dive toward the water and rise up with a wriggling fish in its beak. “You know I can’t promise I won’t ever leave here. But I will promise to stay away from Portland for a while. The werewolves are hunting the vampires now, and they said the city will be safe again soon.” 

Remy nodded. “Werewolves not as strong as trolls, but they good hunters. Good you have werewolf friends.” 

“Oh yeah, about that.” I faced him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? And don’t say you didn’t know, because you must have smelled them on me.” 

“Not my place to tell,” he said unapologetically. “Trolls respect other Peoples. Other Peoples respect trolls.” 

“Does that mean my friends know about you?” 

“No. Werewolves know trolls live here but keep distance.” He gave me a shark grin. “You braver than pack.” 

I laughed, and he joined in. I wondered how Roland and Peter would react if they ever came face-to-face with a troll. What would they say if they knew about me and Remy? Maybe someday I could bring them all together and find out. That would be something to see. 

I glanced at my watch and got to my feet. “I’d better head home. It’s my turn to make dinner.” Which meant we were having tacos. I could make three meals well: tacos, spaghetti and meatballs, and hamburgers. It was a good thing Nate liked to cook, or it would have been ground beef every night. 

Remy stood and patted his shoulder. I climbed on his back and wrapped my arms around his neck. The cave was halfway down the face of a one hundred foot cliff and partially obscured by a couple of sturdy little trees growing out of a crevice in the rock. You could climb down to it if you were brave enough and knew where all the hand holds were. But the fastest way was on the back of a very strong troll. Remy started bringing me here when we first met, and it was one of our favorite hangouts because no one could see us here. This was also the ideal place to hide the troll bile because it was too dangerous to keep it at my place. At that moment we had three small vials tucked away in a hidden crevice at the back of the cave. Even if someone managed to stumble on the cave, they would not find the bile. 

My stomach did a little flip when Remy grabbed a jutting rock and swung us out over the boiling waves. It always felt like this would be the time he lost his grip and sent us falling to our deaths. But he quickly scaled the cliff, never faltering once. 

At the top, I slid off his back and picked up my bike helmet, which I’d tucked under a lone stunted pine tree. We crossed a small meadow and entered the woods to start the short trek to where I’d hidden my bike. Neither of us needed a trail to find our way to the road. Remy and I had explored every inch of the woods and cliffs south of town, and we probably knew the area better than anyone. 

“Sara! Sara!” a high voice thrilled as we trekked through the woods. I stopped and peered through the trees because I knew that voice. Suddenly, a small body landed on my back and a pair of thin arms slid around my neck. 

I reached up to swing the little troll around into a hug. “Hey, Minka, what are you doing out here alone?” The trolls lived in a network of underground caverns somewhere south of here and they did not allow their young ones to go far from the clan. That rule did not contain some of the more adventurous young trolls like Minka. Remy had been just like her at that age. 

Remy’s little cousin gave me a sweet smile that would one day make grown men quiver with fear. “I not alone. You here.” 

“Minka, you not allowed out here,” Remy scolded. “You go home now.” 

Her lip quivered, and tears welled in her round eyes. “Not yet, Remy, please. Sara fix Nog first.” 

I gave Remy a questioning look. “What’s a nog?” 

He made a face that suggested he didn’t care much for it, whatever it was. “Nog is his name. He one of the People.” 

One of the People? Curiosity overcame me. “If he’s hurt, we should help him, shouldn’t we?” 

Remy sighed heavily and nodded. “Show us,” he said to his cousin. 

Minka slid down from my arms and ran ahead of us. “This way!” she cried. “Not far.” 

It was only a few minutes before we heard voices up ahead. We came to a small clearing where we found Minka’s brother, Haba, and their cousins, Creah and Sinah. The three little trolls were gathered around someone huddled on the ground. 

“I got Sara!” Minka yelled happily, and the others cheered and ran over to greet me. I was pretty sure the elders would not be happy to know the youngsters were this familiar with me. 

Strong little hands grabbed mine and pulled me forward. “You fix Nog?” Sinah asked. 

I smiled down at him. “I’ll try.” 

“Oh!” I stared at their friend, Nog. The creature on the ground was about two feet tall with walnut-colored skin and wild yellow hair that came to his shoulders. His face was long with owlish eyes, a long nose, and a mouth that was turned down either in a scowl or in pain; I couldn’t tell. On either side of his head, a pointed ear stuck straight out. He wore a crude vest and short pants made of some kind of animal hide. 

He was not happy to see me. As soon as I approached him, he started thrashing and making a screeching sound that hurt my ears. I backed up a few feet into Remy. 

“Remy, is that what I think it is?” I turned to him. “Is that a gobel?” 

Remy nodded, and I held back a gasp. Gobels – or goblins as they are commonly called – were rumored to have died out a long time ago. Horrid creatures, they stole, liked to torment children, and were known to eat any small animal they could catch, especially cats. 

“I thought there were none left,” I said over the screeching. 

Remy shrugged. “Not all gone. Nog live here many years. He stay away from most other People. They not like him.” 

I rubbed my ears. “Gee, I wonder why. Is his name really Nog?” It seemed more fitting for a Disney character than a real-life goblin. 

“His real name too long to say in human tongue.” 

“Oh. Nog it is then.” 

Remy stepped past me and spoke to the goblin in what I assumed was Nog’s language. He gestured toward the goblin’s leg and then pointed at me, which only set the creature off again. Then Remy raised his voice, something I rarely heard him do, and spoke very forcefully. Watching the goblin suddenly calm down and glower at me sullenly, I was reminded of how Remy had talked to Fren that day in the old house. Very few could stand up to a determined troll. 

“Come,” Remy said. I followed him cautiously, not wanting to upset Nog again. Remy pointed at the goblin’s leg, and I saw blood around his calf. “He caught in trap. Little ones free him, but his leg hurt.” 

I gave Nog what I hoped was a comforting smile and knelt beside his legs. “I’ll need to touch his leg.” 

Remy spoke to the goblin again and then said, “Fix now.” 

I reached out tentatively and pulled the pant leg up over the wounded leg. The cut wasn’t as bad as I had expected, but there was a lot of swelling and I suspected the bone was broken. When I laid a hand gently across the swelling, Nog made a growling sound and bared his teeth at me. Of course he has to have a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth. 

“Is he going to bite me?” 

“No,” was Remy’s response. I trusted him, so I set to healing the goblin’s leg. The heat filled my hands and quickly found the fractured bone. I heard the creature gasp as my power did its work, fusing the bone together until it was whole again. Soon after, the swelling shrunk and the last of the heat seeped out of my hands. 

I sank back on my heels. “All fixed,” I said, and the younger trolls cheered. 

“I knew you fix him,” Minka said, running over to give me a rib-crushing hug. 

Remy spoke to Nog, and the goblin got to his feet slowly, testing out the leg. He peered at me for a long moment then said something to me that I could not understand. I looked to Remy for help. 

“He say you smell bad and now he smell bad like you for days.” 

“Not big on gratitude, is he?” I retorted, and Remy grinned. I turned back to the goblin, who had already started walking away. “Next time you get caught in a trap I hope a bear eats you,” I called after him. 

“Gobels not know how to say thank you,” Remy explained. “This just their way.” 

I let him pull me to my feet. “It’s no wonder they almost went extinct.” 

Remy chuckled. He ordered his little cousins to go home. Then we resumed our walk to my bike. We took our time so I could regain my energy. Strangely, I didn’t feel as drained as I normally did after mending a broken bone. 

“So what’s Nog’s story? Does he have family here?” 

“No family. He like to live alone. Gobels not like other People much.” 

“He seemed friendly enough with your cousins,” I said as we reached my bike where I’d hidden it behind some bushes. 

Remy made a snorting sound. “Little ones think he funny. When they grow older they not like him so much.” 

“Yeah, everything looks different when you grow up.” I strapped on my helmet and grabbed the bike’s handlebars to stand it up. “By the way, I’ve been keeping an ear out and no one’s mentioned the bile. I think we’re safe. But we should probably lay low for a while.” 

“Okay. We wait some time before we make more trade.” 

“We’ll have to wait a few months, maybe longer,” I reminded him. For someone wise in so many ways, Remy knew very little about technology or the resourcefulness of humans. He did not understand that someone determined enough could track trade patterns in this area. I’d used the bile twice as currency, and I always tried to be as vigilant as possible, trading only with Malloy. But there was no telling who was paying attention out there. 

“You feel strong to ride?” 

I wheeled my bike up to the road. “I’m fine. It’s only a few miles.” 

The road was little more than a gravel path with grass pushing up in the center. A long time ago there used to be an old silver mine down this way, but that had closed up back in the forties. Now the only vehicles that came down here were the occasional ATV or dirt bike. There were a lot better trails out past the Knolls and up near the old lighthouse. 

It was a rough ride until I reached the main road. I thought for the hundredth time that I really needed to get my license. Nate had a Honda Element that fit his wheelchair, and he’d probably let me borrow it sometimes if I could drive. Roland was always offering to teach me; maybe it was time to take him up on it. 

Once I hit the main road, I moved to the shoulder to avoid the evening traffic. Halfway home a sleek black Ducati roared past me, and the wind almost knocked me sideways. “Watch it!” I yelled at him as if he could hear me. For a moment, he started to slow down and all I could think was Oh crap! But he apparently changed his mind and kept going. Hanging around Jed’s I’d seen a lot of bikers and most of them were decent guys, but there were always a few troublemakers. The way my luck was going lately, I didn’t want to push it. 

Needless to say, I was taken off guard when I reached the waterfront and saw a black Ducati sitting in front of the coffee shop next door to our building. It could have been a coincidence – there are lots of black motorcycles – but something told me that wasn’t the case. I considered cutting between the buildings to Market Street and going the long way around to our building, but I dismissed that idea. Eli had made me suspicious of strangers, but I wasn’t a coward and I would not start acting like one now. 

I changed my mind when I spotted the tall figure leaning casually against the side of the coffee shop. Wearing jeans and a black leather jacket over a gray T-shirt, Nikolas appeared to be waiting for someone – and I didn’t need three guesses to figure out whom. 

As I drew near him, I felt the stirring in the back of my mind, the same faint tickle of recognition I’d experienced the moment we met. My stomach fluttered as I remembered our first encounter in the club and then how he had faced down two vampires to save me. But then I remembered his strange behavior. One minute he’d looked at me with something akin to hostility, and the next he was swooping in to save my life. Then he was back to being cold and distant again. Which Nikolas was waiting for me now? More importantly, what did he want? 

I was tempted to ride past him, but curiosity got the better of me. “How did you find me?” I asked brusquely. After the way we’d parted the other night, I didn’t see any need for niceties. 

The corners of his mouth turned upward, and amusement flashed in his gray eyes. “What, no hello after everything we’ve been through together?” 

He could turn that charm on someone else, because it was wasted on me. “Hello. How did you find me?” 

If he was bothered by my less-than-friendly greeting, he didn’t show it. “I tracked your friend’s license plate.” 

I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or disturbed; maybe a bit of both. “Why?” He hadn’t exactly left on a friendly note the other night, and I could not think of any reason for him to come looking for me. He didn’t strike me as a guy who made house calls. 

My question seemed to make him pause for a moment before he pushed away from the building. “We need to talk.” 

His tone had lost some of its teasing, and I instantly felt uneasy. I tightened my grip on the handlebars. “Talk about what?” 

Nikolas raised an eyebrow. “You look ready to flee. I don’t bite, you know.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought about the other fellow,” I replied dryly, and he surprised me by chuckling. His face lost its hardness, and his sensual smile made my stomach flutter before I gave myself a mental shake. 

“You sound like you’re well recovered at least.” His eyes met mine unwaveringly. “I’m not here to harm you, and we really do need to talk.” 

“What could we have to talk about? I don’t even know your last name.” 

“It’s Danshov, and your last name is Grey. Now that we’re acquainted, can we talk?” 

He sounded sincere and we were out in the open, so I didn’t think I was in any real danger. Plus he had saved my life. I should hear what he had to say; I owed him that much at least. “Okay.” 

“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” 

I thought for a moment. “We can go down to the wharves. They’re usually pretty empty this time of day.” 

“That will work.” 

I told him I’d be back in a minute. Then I wheeled my bike around the corner of our building and hid it behind Nate’s car. When I came back he was standing in front of his motorcycle waiting for me. Neither of us spoke as we started walking toward the wharves. I wondered if he felt as awkward as I did. No, guys like him probably never feel uncomfortable. His every movement emanated confidence, and he had the added advantage of size. At five-five, I felt dwarfed by him as we walked side by side. 

He was silent until we passed a stack of lobster traps and began strolling along one of the deserted wharves. “How long have you been friends with the werewolves?” he asked. 

The question confused me until I remembered what Maxwell had said about the werewolves and the Mohiri disliking each other. If Nikolas had a problem with my friendship with Roland and Peter he would just have to get over it. “A long time.” 

“And your parents don’t mind?” 

“It’s just me and my uncle, and he likes my friends but he doesn’t know what they are. He doesn’t know about any of this,” I said pointedly. He nodded. “Do you mind if I ask about your parents? How did you come to live with your uncle?” “My parents are gone. My mother left when I was two, so I don’t remember her. My dad died when I was eight.” I swallowed the familiar lump and stared straight ahead. “Uncle Nate is his brother.” “Do you know your mother’s maiden name?” I stopped walking and looked at him. “Why do you want to know about my parents? What do they have to do with anything?” His face gave nothing away. “Answer my question, and I will answer yours.” I turned away in a huff and resumed walking. “Her name was Madeline. I think her maiden name was Cross or something like that. She abandoned us. I don’t really care who she was.” It took me a few seconds to realize Nikolas was not beside me. I turned to look back at him and saw an odd expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” “Madeline Croix? That was her name?” “It could be. I’m not sure. Why are you looking at me like that?” He stared out at the water. “I just haven’t heard that name in a while. If she is the Madeline I knew, it explains a lot to me.” “Well, it doesn’t tell me anything, so why don’t you fill me in? You said you would answer my question if I answered yours.” He gave me a small smile as he walked toward me. “I will.” We were almost at the end of the wharf where two large lobster boats were moored. Nikolas pointed at some overturned crates. “Let’s sit. This is a good place to talk.” I sat on one of the crates. Nikolas took the other and turned it so he was facing me. This close, his eyes were like liquid mercury, and I tried to ignore the funny twisting in my gut. “You didn’t know who the Mohiri were before the other night. How much do you know about us now?” I lifted a shoulder. “I know you guys are vampire hunters, and you and the werewolves don’t like each other. That’s pretty much it.” “I imagine your friends don’t talk about us any more than we do about them. Would you like to know more about the Mohiri?” “Yes.” I had no idea why he was telling me this, but I was curious about him and his whole race. My response appeared to please him because he smiled. “You seem very familiar with our world, but how much do you know about demons?” “Nothing, except to stay as far away from them as possible.” “What if I told you there are thousands of types of demons and that vampires are one of them?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’d ask you if you are deliberately trying to scare the hell out of me.” He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his thighs. His eyes held mine with the same intensity I’d felt when we first met. “I am not here to frighten you.” I tore my gaze from his and looked down at my hands. Too late. “Do you still want to hear about the Mohiri?” I looked at him again, glad that whatever I’d seen in his eyes a minute ago was gone. “Go ahead.” “You sure?” I gave him an encouraging smile. “Yes. I want to hear this.” He looked out at the bay. “It all started two millennia ago when demons learned how to leave their dimension and walk the earth in corporeal form. Most of them were lesser demons, and they were dangerous but not a major threat to humanity. But then a middle demon called a Vamhir appeared. It took a human host and gave the human immortality… and the thirst for human blood.” “The first vampire,” I whispered, feeling a mixture of revulsion and fascination. Nikolas nodded. “The demon soon learned how to make more like him, and before long there were thousands of vampires. The earth’s population was small back then, and ancient civilizations were virtually defenseless against the vampires’ strength and bloodlust. If left unchecked, the vampires would have eventually overrun the earth and wiped out humanity. So the archangel Michael came to earth to create a race of warriors to destroy the vampires. He took a middle demon called a Mori and put it inside a human male and had the male impregnate fifty human women. Their offspring were half human/half demon and they had the speed, strength, and agility to hunt and kill vampires. They were the first Mohiri.” He stopped and looked at me, waiting for my reaction. But I was still trying to absorb the part about a demon impregnating women without squirming off my seat. It finally hit me what he was saying, and I couldn’t help the incredulous look I gave him. “The Mohiri are demons?” “Half demon,” he corrected me. “Each of us is born with a Mori demon in us.” I felt the color drain from my face. “You mean you live with a demon inside you like… like a parasite?” “Exactly like that,” he said as if it was no big deal. “We give the Mori life, and in return, it gives us the ability to do what we were created to do. It is a symbiotic relationship that benefits us both.” It was too much. I got up and walked to the edge of the wharf, struggling to grasp what he was telling me. Demon parasites? I peered down at the water, and I could just make out a few tomcods and a sculpin below the surface. The water looked deceptively shallow here, but I knew it was over fifteen feet deep at this end of the wharf. Nothing in this world was what it appeared to be. “You’re not planning on jumping, are you?” There was amusement in his voice but also something that sounded like concern. I sucked in a fortifying breath and faced him. He was still sitting on the crate, watching me expectantly. What was I was supposed to say to him? Everything I’d ever heard or read had taught me to fear demons and keep my distance from them. Now Nikolas was telling me that he was a half-demon warrior who went around protecting humans by killing other demons. I didn’t know how much more weirdness I could handle. “Why are you telling me all this?” Somehow I didn’t think he had tracked me down just to educate me on demons. He stood and walked toward me, stopping a few feet away. “Because you need to hear it.” “Why? What does this have to do with me? Or my parents?” Nikolas’s face grew more serious. “I’ll get to them in a minute. First, tell me, haven’t you wondered why you’re different from everyone else you know?” “D-different?” How could he possibly know about that? “I don’t know what you mean.” “I think you do.” “Listen I – ” His gaze captured mine again, his eyes turning a deep charcoal gray. Before I could contemplate how a person’s eyes could have so many different hues, I felt the softest brush against my mind. Some unseen force pushed gently against my walls, testing them, and in the recesses of my mind the beast stirred in response. Panic flared in me, and I reached for my power, suddenly feeling like I was locked in a battle of wills. The comforting strength of my power coursed through me and slammed against the foreign presence, flinging it away from me. Gasping, I whirled away from him. What was that? I’d never felt so exposed and vulnerable in my life, and it terrified me. “Sara?” I can’t do this. I wasn’t sure what this was, but I suddenly knew I didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say. “I have to go,” I uttered, moving to go around him. “Running away won’t change anything, Sara.” I didn’t answer, just kept walking. “I didn’t take you for a coward.” 

His taunt brought me to a halt, but I didn’t turn around. “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“I think we both know that’s not true.” 

I spun back to him because there was one thing I wanted to know. “What about my parents?” I demanded. “Did you know them?” 

“Not your father. But I knew Madeline Croix for many years.” 

I shook my head. “You’re only a few years older than me.” 

His face was unreadable. “I’m older than I look.” 

“So what are you trying to tell me?” I asked weakly. “How do you know Madeline?” 

There was no softness in his voice, only truth. “I watched her grow up.” 

I stared at him mutely, and his words hung in the air between us. No, it wasn’t possible. Madeline Croix was a terrible wife and mother, but she was not… one of them. Because if she was then that would make me…


	8. Chapter 7

“NO!” I SPUN away from him, and this time I didn’t stop when he called my name. I bolted for the waterfront, afraid to hear whatever he started to say next. It wasn’t true – it couldn’t be true. There had to be more than one woman named Madeline Croix, and for Nikolas to make such an assertion after our one encounter was insane. 

He appeared in front of me, feet apart, blocking my only means of escape, and I skidded to a stop inches from him. My hands flew up to brace me from slamming into his hard chest. 

“How – ?” I panted.  
“Demon speed, remember?” 

I winced and backed away. “Someone could have seen you.” 

He gave a small shrug. “You and I both know that people see only what they want to see and believe what they want to believe.” He took a step toward me, forcing me to take another step back. “But just because a person chooses to not believe something, doesn’t mean it’s not real.” 

I hugged my arms to my chest. “How can you be so sure?” I asked, hearing the desperation in my voice. “There must be more than one Madeline Croix.” 

Nikolas’s sigh sounded almost regretful. “I was sure of what you are before I heard her name. As soon as I saw you the other night, I knew.” He averted his gaze as if he knew I would not like his next words. “My Mori recognized yours.” 

The air left my body. “What?” 

“Mori can sense each other when they are near. It is how one Mohiri always recognizes another.” He glanced at me, and he must have seen the denial forming on my lips because he added, “They are never wrong.” 

“I…” I had no idea how to respond. 

Nikolas’s dark eyes swept over my face as if he was searching for something. “You felt it, didn’t you?” 

I thought about that night and the weird sense of déjà vu that hit me when I first looked into his eyes. There had been an instant where it felt like I knew him somehow, even though I was sure we had never met. The same feeling I’d had when I saw him waiting for me by the coffee shop. 

My nod was almost imperceptible. “This can’t be happening.” 

One corner of his mouth lifted. “There are worse fates, you know.” 

“You’re telling me I have a demon parasite inside me, and I’m supposed to be okay with that?” 

“It’s not as bad as you make it sound.” 

“No, it’s worse.” All these years I’d fought with the beast in my head, and now I discovered it was something far worse than I could ever have imagined. Nausea curled in my stomach. 

He made no move toward me, but I heard a softening in his voice. “I know this is strange and frightening, but you are not the first orphan we’ve found. You will adjust as they have.” 

“Orphan?” 

“It’s just a term we use for young Mohiri who were not born to our way of life. They have no idea who they really are until we find them.” 

“Then there are others like me?” The thought that someone else had gone through this gave me a small measure of comfort. 

“Not exactly like you.” His brow furrowed. “The others have been much younger.” 

“What does that matter?” 

He looked away briefly, and his expression was serious when his gaze returned to me. “Our Mori need us to survive as much as we need them, but they are still demons and they have certain impulses and wills of their own. We learn from a very early age to control those urges and to balance our human and demon sides. Otherwise, the Mori will try to become dominant. Orphans who are not found young enough to be trained, grow up with deep mental and emotional problems, tormented by their demon sides. The worst cases become severely schizophrenic and end up in institutions… or they kill themselves.” 

I inhaled sharply as I thought about the thing in my head and the dark elation I’d felt as I punched Scott. It had always felt like another consciousness lived in my head, one that would take over my mind if I let it. A shudder passed through me when I thought of where I’d be if I hadn’t learned to control it. I would have ended up just like those kids Nikolas was talking about. Maybe I still would. 

“How old was the oldest orphan you ever brought in?” 

“The oldest reclaimed was ten, and she was the exception. The others were no more than seven.” 

“Ten,” I squeaked. If what he was saying was right, I should be insane or dead by now. Maybe he was wrong about me. Maybe I wasn’t one of his orphans after all. 

“I know what you’re thinking; I see it in your face. You are Mohiri. I know that with one hundred percent certainty.” He took another step toward me, his eyes searching mine. “What I don’t know is how you learned to subdue your demon without training. I’ve never seen control like yours. Your Mori is practically dormant.” 

Warmth spread through my belly at his nearness, and something fired in my brain. I backed up a step to keep several feet between us. I knew it was that demon inside me reacting to another of its kind, but that didn’t make me feel any better about it. 

“Is that why I’m not fast or strong like you?” I asked to cover my discomfort. 

“That and we reach maturity around nineteen or twenty, which is also when our Mori reaches full strength. You should already have noticed some of your abilities starting to show by now, but you’ll have to learn how to use your demon side to enhance your physical abilities.” 

My demon side. A shudder went through me. I didn’t want this. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No,” I told him honestly. “It’s just so much to take in.” 

He nodded in understanding. “It will take time.” 

My throat was dry when I tried to swallow. “So, what else can you do besides move really fast and catch people falling off buildings? What other powers do you have?” 

“Powers?” 

“You know, can you compel people like vampires do or read minds or heal things? Stuff like that.” 

He chuckled. “No special powers or compulsion or anything else. We have the speed and strength to fight vampires. That is all we need.” 

“Oh.” Not the answer I expected. If my healing ability did not come from the Mori, where did it come from? 

“You sound disappointed.” 

“No, I’m just trying to understand it all.” The sun was low in the sky now, and it suddenly bathed his perfect face in golden hues. “How old are you? And I don’t mean how old you look.” 

I thought he wasn’t going to answer until he said, “I was born in eighteen twenty.” 

My jaw fell open, but I did not care. It wasn’t hard to do the math; he was almost two hundred years old. And he looked twenty, twenty-one at the most. Then the impact of his answer hit me. “Am I…?” 

“Yes. Once you reach maturity, aging will stop for you, too.” 

“Oh,” I said faintly. People were always searching for the fountain of youth. Even I had wondered what it would be like to live many lifetimes and see how the world changed. But suddenly being faced with the prospect of never aging, while Nate and everyone else I loved grew old and died, filled me with a sense of loss so great it almost sent me to my knees. 

“That upsets you?” His voice held a note of surprise, and I guessed most orphans were happy to learn they would live forever. 

I nodded mutely. A cool breeze came up, and I rubbed my arms, thinking that fall was just around the corner. I almost laughed hysterically at my thoughts. Here I had just discovered I was immortal, and I was thinking about the weather. 

“You’re cold.” He started to remove his jacket, but I waved it away, not sure I could deal with kindness from him. 

“I’m fine thanks.” I stared down at the worn boards of the wharf then back at him. “What if I don’t want to join the Mohiri?” 

His brow furrowed. “You don’t join. You are Mohiri.” 

“What if I don’t want to live with them and I just want to stay here? You said yourself that I can control this demon thing better than anyone you’ve ever seen, so I don’t need your training.” I’d gotten by okay so far, and I didn’t want to leave Nate, Remy, Roland, and Peter. I was grateful to Nikolas for saving me, and I couldn’t deny I felt some strange attraction for him, but it wasn’t enough for me to turn away from the only life I knew. 

“You don’t belong here anymore. What will you tell people when you stop aging? What will you do when everyone you know here grows old and dies? You need to be with your own people.” 

Nikolas’s words hurt, even though I’d had the same thoughts a few minutes ago. “These are my people.” 

“That’s because they are all you’ve ever known. Once you get to know the Mohiri – ” 

“No! I knew a Mohiri, remember? All she did was abandon me and my father.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I blazed on. “My loving Mohiri mother deserted us, and my dad was murdered by vampires. Where were my people then?” 

His face registered his shock. “Vampires killed your father?” 

I laughed bitterly. “Pathetic, isn’t it? You’d think someone like me would be a lot less likely to be taken in by a vampire, considering my past and my genes. Some warrior.” 

I pushed past him, and he didn’t try to stop me. Instead he kept pace beside me. “That vampire, Eli, knows what you are now. He’ll be looking for you. Vampires love nothing more than draining Mohiri orphans. We deprived him of that pleasure, and he will not forget it.” 

My step faltered, but I kept going. “I thought you said he wouldn’t get away.” 

“He was more resourceful than most.” 

“Well if he does come back, he’ll think I’m in Portland, right? There’s no way he’d know to look for me here. Besides, this is werewolf territory and the werewolves are doing sweeps of Portland to find the vampires.” 

“The werewolves might not catch him either.” 

I shot him an angry look. “Are you trying to scare me?” 

“No, but I will not lie to you either.” Nikolas sounded sincere, and for some reason that annoyed me even more. I wanted to go home and put him and the Mohiri behind me, to go back to the life I knew and understood. We reached his motorcycle, and I stopped and faced him. “I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for you saving my life because I am, more than I can say. But your way of life, your people – I don’t belong with them.” He did not look happy. Obviously most orphans were willing to give up everything they knew for the Mohiri. I was not one of them. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a white card containing only a phone number. “This is my number. Call me if you need me or when you reconsider your options.” I took the card and stuck it in my back pocket, knowing that it would end up in a drawer somewhere and I’d never use it. “I won’t reconsider.” “One more thing.” Nikolas put his hand inside his jacket again and withdrew a sheathed dagger. He turned the knife over in his hand and thrust it toward me handle first. “You may feel safe here now, but as you found out Friday night, danger can find you when you least expect it.” I tried to refuse the weapon, but he pressed it into my hand and my fingers closed around the handle of their own accord. When I pulled the knife free of its sheath the silver blade gave off an almost ghostly gleam in the fading light. It looked like the one I had stabbed Eli with, only smaller, and the intricately carved handle was made of a dark polished wood. It fit my hand like it was made for me. He donned his helmet and swung a leg over his motorcycle. “I’ll be seeing you, Sara,” he drawled before the Ducati purred to life. “No, you won’t,” I replied, but it was drowned out by the roar of the engine as he sped away. I moved like a sleepwalker as I made dinner. It was a good thing Nate was too busy working on a big scene to eat with me because I was incapable of making normal conversation. After I finished my tasteless meal, I escaped to my room where I watched TV, read a book, even did homework – anything to avoid thinking about the weapon hidden in the back of my closet and the train wreck that was my life. No matter what I did, the truth hovered over me like a wave of misery about to crash down and suffocate me, and there was nowhere to hide and no way to outrun it. I paced the floor of my room like a lion in a cage, except I could not roar out my anguish with Nate downstairs. How could I tell him what was going on and who or what I really was? I pictured the revulsion on his face if he learned that I was part demon. My skin tightened and my stomach rebelled whenever I dwelled on the fact that a demon parasite was burrowed inside me. I wanted to scream and rip the ugliness from me so I could go back to feeling human again. But I never was human, was I? My whole life was a lie. Did my dad know what Madeline was? Did he die knowing his daughter had a monster living inside her? I stared at my face in the bathroom mirror, looking for signs, anything that would give my horrible secret away to the world. But all I saw was a normal, seventeen-year-old girl. I’d always scoffed at the kids at school for not being themselves, for trying to be something else to fit in. Jock, cheerleader, bully – they were all masks that hid the real people. But now I knew that I wore the biggest mask of all. I was a demon wearing a human face. How could I live like this, to endure this knowledge for the rest of my life – my immortal life? I put a hand over my mouth to smother the sob torn from my throat. Nate, Roland, Peter, even Remy, everyone I loved would die someday, but I would live on. I could never have a normal relationship because everyone around me would eventually grow old and die. The thought of such a dismal existence brought on a swell of loneliness so fierce I almost doubled over from the pain in my chest. Sleep was impossible, and the next morning I was bleary-eyed and hollow as I got ready for school. I managed to avoid talking with anyone all morning, and instead of going to the cafeteria at lunch, I holed up in the library. I had no appetite, and I couldn’t bear to face Roland and Peter yet. The werewolves had made it clear they did not like the Mohiri. What would my friends do when they found out I was Mohiri? I couldn’t keep something like this from them, but I needed more time to prepare myself. I needed a few more days to pretend my life was not being ripped apart from the inside out. The week passed in a blur of classes, skipped lunches, and tormented nights. On Thursday after school, Roland caught me before I could slip away and asked me if I was sick because I was pale and even more withdrawn than usual. I mumbled an excuse about the flu and escaped before he could see through my lie. At home it was easier to hide my turmoil. Nate worked long hours on his book, trying to meet a deadline. When he wasn’t writing, he was on the phone or going out to meet with a group of local environmentalists who were concerned with rumors about some oil company suddenly showing interest in the area. Fishing and tourism were the main industries in New Hastings, and any kind of energy exploration could be damaging to both of them. I liked my town just as it was, and I hoped the oil companies would leave it alone. It was easy to forget my own misery for a little while when I thought about the animals and other creatures that could be hurt or displaced if such a thing came to pass. I stayed close to home on Saturday and Sunday, except for a walk down to the wharves. On Saturday afternoon, I spent a few hours on the roof with Harper who strutted around, upset that I’d neglected him lately. Normally, spending time with him relaxed me, but nothing could ease my mind now. Roland texted me on Friday night and again on Saturday to see if I wanted to do something with him and Peter. Both times I replied that I wasn’t feeling well yet. I knew I was a coward and it wasn’t fair to my friends, but I still didn’t know how to tell them and see our friendship end. On Monday, Roland and Peter ambushed me in the parking lot after school. “All right, Sara, what’s up with you?” Roland demanded after they pulled me out of earshot of everyone else. “And don’t give me that crap about being sick, because you’ve hardly been sick a day in your life.” “I – ” “Is it us?” Peter asked with some hesitation. “Are you freaked out about… you know… what we are? We’re still friends, right?” “Of course we’re still friends.” I saw doubt on their faces and realized I had been so caught up in my own misery that I hadn’t seen how my sudden reticence affected my friends. While I was trying to gain the courage to tell them the truth, they were worried that I didn’t want to be around them anymore because they were werewolves. “That doesn’t bother me. It’s…” I bit my lip and looked down to hide the dread in my eyes. How can I tell them? Peter moved closer. “You alright?” I started to nod, but I shook my head instead. I couldn’t count how many times someone had asked me if I was okay since last Friday and I always said yes, but the truth was, I was far from okay. In the last week my world had changed so much that I felt like I had stepped into someone else’s life without a script. I didn’t know how to think or act anymore. “Come on.” Roland touched my arm and pointed to his old red pickup. “Let’s get out of here.” None of us spoke as we piled into the cab of his small Chevy truck. Roland pulled out of the parking lot and headed north. I didn’t pay much attention to where we were headed. I stared at my hands most of the way and tried to find the words to tell them my awful secret when we got to our destination. The truck slowed, and I looked up to find that we were at the old Signal Point lighthouse. The lighthouse had been decommissioned years ago, and it used to be a favorite teenage hangout. They still threw the occasional party up here because the police didn’t bother with it for the most part. The sight of the peeling white tower surrounded by the faded white picket fence brought back a lot of good memories but did little to ease the weight on my chest. Roland opened his door. “You want to go inside?” The wind was surprisingly calm up here today so I said, “Let’s go sit on the bluff.” We strolled through the grass until we neared the edge of the bluff. The three of us sat in a circle, obscured from the rest of the world by the tall grass. Overhead the blue sky was dotted with small white clouds, and below us the surf broke against the rocks in a familiar rhythm. In this peaceful setting it was almost hard to believe that bad things could happen. “Nikolas came to see me last Monday.” “What the hell did he want?” There was no mistaking the dislike in Peter’s tone, and I cringed inwardly. Would he feel the same way about me soon? “He told me some things that kind of freaked me out. I’m not sure how to tell you about it.” I looked from Peter to Roland and saw the mingled curiosity and concern on their faces. “This is really hard, so let me finish before you say anything. Okay?” They both nodded. I took a deep breath and started at the point where I came home and found him waiting in front of the bookstore. I told them how he had tracked Roland’s license plate and how he’d asked about my parents and told me he had known my mother. When I told them that Mohiri can sense each other and Nikolas had recognized me as one as soon as we met, Roland made a small sound but didn’t say anything. He did not speak until I said that Nikolas told me I should be with the Mohiri. “What did you tell him?” he asked in a tight voice. I clutched my hands together. “I told him I belong here with you guys and Nate.” “Good.” “I thought… that since you guys hate the Mohiri you wouldn’t want anything to do with me when you found out I was one of them.” “Is that what you were upset about all week?” The hurt in Roland’s eyes made my own sting. “You honestly think that we would do something like that.” “No – I don’t know. After what Brendan and Maxwell said about them and you two didn’t hide how you felt about Nikolas – what was I supposed to think?” Roland let out a long breath. “We don’t like the Mohiri, but we don’t consider them our enemy. And you being one of them doesn’t change who you are.” “I guess I was just so upset that I didn’t think of it that way.” “So your mom was one of them?” Peter shook his head. “All this time we were friends with a Mohiri and never knew it.” Roland could not hold back his smirk. “I bet he wasn’t happy when you told him you’d rather stay with a bunch of werewolves.” I remembered Nikolas’s expression when I told him I didn’t want to go. “He wasn’t.” “What happens now? Will they leave you alone?” Peter asked. “I don’t know. Apparently finding orphans is a big deal to them, and I’m a lot older than the other orphans they bring in. They want me to join them, but I won’t let them force me into anything I don’t want.” Roland swiped at an insect near his ear. “Why are you older than the other orphans?” I bit my lip. I’d deliberately left out certain details about the Mohiri because I wanted to see how my friends reacted before I laid the whole thing on them. “What do you guys know about the Mohiri – other than that they’re vampire hunters?” Peter lifted his shoulders. “Not much. Like Dad said the other night, they’re like some kind of secret society. They’re super fast and strong and – ” He grabbed my arm. “Hey, that means you can move like them.” I shook my head. “Nikolas said I’m suppressing that side of me. In order to be fast like him I’d have to stop holding it back.” “Then let it out. What’s stopping you?” Roland said. I tugged at a tuff of grass, unable to look at them. “I can’t do that.” “Why not?” There was never going to be an easy way to say it, so I blurted it out. “It’s a demon. Roland let out a choked laugh. “What?” “The Mohiri are half demon.” I looked up, waiting for the realization to sink in, waiting to see the same revulsion I’d lived with for a week. The only sound was the crashing of waves against the rocks. I looked away from the shock and disbelief in their faces and waited for the inevitable reactions. “Half demon? How is that possible?” Roland’s voice sounded dubious instead of repulsed, but I still couldn’t look at him. “It’s called a Mori demon. The Mohiri were created specifically to kill vampires, and each one of them is born with a Mori inside. They have to learn to live with the demon side and control it, and it makes them able to fight like they do. Orphans have to be found really young so they can learn to control their Mori. If not, the demon drives them insane. Nikolas says my Mori is practically dormant, and he has no idea how I’m doing it. Otherwise, I’d probably be locked up in a mental ward right now.” Peter let out a long low whistle. “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” He immediately ducked his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad by that. It’s just that I’ve never heard of a demon living inside a human like that.” “Actually you have. Did you know that vampires have demon parasites inside them?” They stared at me with similar expressions of shock. Roland found his voice first. “Nikolas told you all this?” “Yes.” “That must have been some conversation.” “You could say that.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick out in places. “I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this around since last week. No wonder you seemed so out of it.” “I was afraid you guys would think I was some kind of freak. You have to admit it’s pretty messed up.” Roland barked a laugh. “We turn into giant mutant wolves. You don’t think there’s anything strange about that?” “You can’t compare yourselves to demons.” My voice rose. “Demons are evil. They come from a hell dimension.” His eyes widened, and his smile faded. “You think you’re evil?” “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. In my heart I didn’t believe I was a bad person, but I had glimpsed my dark side before. I didn’t know what I was capable of. What if I lost control of the demon inside me? What if I hurt someone even worse than I had hurt Scott? “There is no way you’re evil,” Peter stated unwaveringly. I wanted so much to believe him. “How can you be so sure?” “I’m sure because I know you. You’re a good person and you never hurt people – well, except for Scott but some exceptions are okay. You hate bullies, and you always watch out for Jeffrey at school. I seriously doubt an evil person would care about him. I know you love Nate, and it’s easy to see how much you loved your father. I don’t think an evil person can love like that. And you’re so good with animals. Uncle Brendan says animals can sense when someone is bad, so there is no way they’d let you near them if you were evil.” Roland reached over to take my hand. “You can’t possibly be evil, no matter what you are. I think evil is a choice, and you choose to be good. In fact, your demon is probably dormant because you’re too good for it.” I sniffed. “You mean that?” “Yes,” Roland replied with conviction. “Do you think Nikolas is evil?” “No.” Evil was the last word I’d use to describe Nikolas. Hard and direct, maybe a little overbearing. But also strong and courageous. He had put his own life at risk to save mine, and he’d displayed kindness on the wharf. “Me either,” he said to my surprise. “The Mohiri are arrogant bastards and I don’t like them, but they do kill vampires. That Mori demon might be bad news on its own, but they keep it under control and use it to make them better hunters.” He pointed at himself and then at Peter. “We had to learn to control our wolf sides so they didn’t take over. There’s a reason for the scary werewolf stories. Not all weres are good, and sometimes even good ones lose control.” It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off my chest, and I was able to take a deep breath for the first time in a week. I let out a shaky laugh. “When did you get all wise and philosophical?” Roland gave me a lopsided grin. “Hey, I’m not just all good looks, you know.” I fell back in the grass, giddy with relief. “I can’t believe how much I let this screw with my head.” “Maybe next time you’ll come to us before you freak yourself out,” Roland chided. “Don’t ever be afraid to confide in us. No more secrets, okay?” I didn’t answer him. My Mohiri lineage was only one of my many secrets. What would my friends think of me if they learned that I’d peddled troll bile on the black market? How would they react to my healing power or my friendship with Remy? And what would they say if they knew why I really went to the Attic that night? We were interrupted by a cell phone ringing. “Oh crap!” Roland muttered, reaching for his phone. “I forgot I was supposed to pick up Mom. She dropped her car off to get the brakes done.” We hurried to his truck and headed back to town. The mood on the return trip was a lot lighter. Roland and Peter compared werewolves and Mohiri, and they wondered if I’d be stronger or faster than them if I used my demon side. I told them to keep guessing because there was no way I was unleashing that thing. Nate made beef stew for dinner, and I could smell it simmering in the slow cooker as soon as I entered the apartment. I set the table then spent an hour doing homework before he came out of his office. “Smells great,” I said as he popped some take-and-bake rolls into the oven. He gave me a sideways look. “You seem to be in a better mood today.” I grinned. “I am, and I’m starving, too.” After dinner I cleaned the kitchen and finished my homework. I felt so light and happy that I sat down to draw for the first time in two weeks. I was almost done before I saw that I’d sketched Nikolas emerging from the shadows with sword drawn, his face hard and angry like an avenging angel. I stared at the face on the paper for a long moment, not sure why I’d drawn him. He’d saved my life, but he was also a reminder of everything that had gone wrong with my life lately. I closed the sketchbook and threw it on the desk. I didn’t want to ruin my good mood by thinking about Nikolas or any of that negative stuff tonight. I opened my laptop to check email before I went to bed. There was one from Roland with a funny cartoon of a werewolf at the dentist that made me laugh. I was still smiling when I logged into my regular message board. Five minutes later my smile dissipated along with my good humor. A new thread had been started earlier today. LOOKING FOR FOY. A cold knot started to form in my stomach as I read the dozens of replies in the thread. Most of the replies were jokes and snarky comments telling the poster that they had a better chance of winning the lottery than finding FOY. Some users dismissed it as a legend with no merit. No one seemed to take it seriously. Except me. FOY is the little known acronym used for troll bile. It stands for “fountain of youth.” No one mentioned New Hastings, me, or Malloy, but the posting gave me goose bumps. Someone was digging around. 

Don’t panic. Even if there was something to it, there was nothing to trace it back to me. In any case, there was nothing I could do about it tonight. I opened a new email and sent a quick message off to Malloy. He had just as much at stake as I did if someone was nosing around. And he had a lot more contacts than I did. He’d get to the bottom of it. I hoped. 

I shut the laptop and rubbed my face. How had my life gotten so damn complicated so fast? 

“If it’s not one thing, it’s something else,” I groaned, turning out the light.


End file.
